


Waking Up In Vegas

by LilyInTheSnow



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-24 05:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 101,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1592648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyInTheSnow/pseuds/LilyInTheSnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A surprise trip to Vegas for Amara's birthday by her two best friends leads to an unwanted relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

It all started with one tiny innocent seeming suggestion. Well, as innocent as a suggestion about going to Las Vegas, Nevada could be. It _was_ Sin City after all. 'Let's go to Vegas for your birthday!' was, in Amara's opinion, the worst thing she'd ever heard in her young life. So she was turning twenty-eight. She wasn't exactly young, but she didn't have death breathing down her neck either. Well, not age or health related anyway. Death seemed to come whenever he damn well pleased and so far she'd been lucky enough that he hadn't yet set his gaze upon her.

And she was getting off topic again. Her cynicism and jaded-ness creeping back up on her. No matter how much the curly-headed blonde sleeping next to her tried to keep her upbeat, as if she could be after everything she'd been through, and optimistic. Something else she'd grown out of at a young age. Who could be optimistic when the world was continuing its downward spiral into Hell and taking everyone along for the ride? Being cynical had gotten her this far in life. Why should she take chances and even for a split second try to be optimistic about something?

Although, she thought as she stared down at the sleeping blonde, maybe being cynical wasn't exactly the way to go anymore. Especially when it resulted in her getting married at some ungodly hour of the night to a man she'd only seen in passing until she'd been dragged out dancing by the two women she loved like sisters.

A few pre-birthday party drinks had already made her tipsy and when she'd seen him again at the club, dancing his heart out even though it only reinforced the stereotype about white guys not being able to dance; she'd been drawn to him. Just as she'd been drawn to him the two times she'd crashed into him at the hotel and if she could be honest about things, the two hours they'd spent together in the coffee shop the night before her party.

Maybe it was the constant sense of optimism that drew her cold jaded heart to him. Or maybe it was because his eyes were a clear ocean blue with tiny green and brown specks in them. Maybe it was the laugh lines around his eyes. Maybe it was the boyish grin on his perfect lips. The grin that turned to secret smiles when he thought she wasn't looking at him. Maybe it was because of the adorably awkward and lanky way he danced. Or maybe, and probably this was it, she was tired of being lonely, cold, and dark. Or it was just because he had the most perfect ass she'd ever seen.

She sighed heavily as she turned her gaze to the sparkling of the diamond wedding set on her finger. Fire shone from the stones with the slightest wiggle of her fingers and she again wondered how much he had paid for the rings and what had possessed him to ask her to marry him in the first place. Granted a lot of booze had played a hand in it, but she couldn't seem to get passed the feeling that he'd known what he was doing the entire time. More importantly though: What the hell had possessed her to say yes?

Yeah, he was kind and funny and highly intelligent and very beautiful. Those things didn't necessarily make someone husband worthy did they?

_Cynicism at its best._

He reached for her in his sleep and she put her hand in his hoping he wouldn't wake up just yet. She wasn't sure she wanted to be there when he did wake. They'd only been married for eight hours give or take and while she was nursing one hell of a hangover that her heavy thoughts did nothing to appease, she was afraid of what he would do if he did wake with no recollection of what they'd done. She might be cynical and jaded but that didn't mean she wasn't a coward.

And all of this because of a stupid little suggestion that should have been meaningless. How the hell could seven seemingly innocent words turn her life into a dramedy of epic proportions?


	2. Flying

Amarantha Donovan, Amara for short, dragged her hands through her hair, resisting the urge to tear it out a few strands at a time. Michelle and Sarina, yay! for normal names, only stared at her with pleading gazes. They'd spoken those seven words at least five minutes ago and Amara had been shaking her head ever since. "No."

"But . . . "

"I said no. Vegas is not my idea of a good time." She glared balefully at the twins that sat on her couch. Both of them had jet black hair and blue-green eyes. Small straight noses and Cupid's bow lips. Both were tall and slender, something Amara could only aspire to be. She'd been saddled with barely scraping five foot six and having a bit of baby fat that nothing short of plastic surgery was going to get rid of.

The twins beamed up at her and she shook her head looking from Sarina to Michelle and back again. A small spattering of freckles on Michelle's cheeks was the only way to tell them apart for the untrained eye. Amara still had trouble at times and she'd known them for fifteen years.

"You have no idea what a good time is," Michelle told her with a grin that managed to be wicked and endearingly lopsided at the same time.

"Which is why you need to go to Vegas," Sarina added with a nod. "You're wasting away."

"No, I'm not."

"It's time to clean the cobwebs out at least. Your ladybits have to be dry and dusty by now." Sarina told her, pity and something close to sorrow in her eyes.

"My _ladybits,_ as you so eloquently put it, are no concern of yours."

"That Ville dude was a jerkoff, Amara. You can't compare every other man on the planet with one douchebag." Michelle told her with a knowing look. Amara hadn't had a boyfriend, lover or even a friend with benefits in longer than the twenty-nine year old cared to count.

"There's not a guy on the planet that's been a man even once in his life."

"We're not saying you need a man," Michelle started.

"But you need a man." Sarina finished. "If only for fifteen minutes."

"I've sworn off men."

"Batting for the other team?" Sarina asked seriously.

"If by that you mean batting for my own team, then yes. I'm batting for the other team." Amara sat in the black leather overstuffed chair across from them and sighed. "I'm not going to Vegas for my birthday. Also, I'll have you know that I dust my ladybits fairly often."

Sarina choked on the drink of beer she'd been taking and Michelle laughed hysterically while Amara only watched her dearest friends with the amused expression of a patient mother.

 

Six hours later Amara was sandwiched between the twins as the crowded airplane made its decent. She was grumbling under her breath as she had been for most of the flight. She shifted trying once more in vain to get more room. "Fucking coach. Fucking over-booking airline."

She'd been dragged forcefully out of her apartment and to the airport by the twins, the deceitful bitches, and shoved onto the airplane where they'd been bumped from first class down to coach by the too fucking happy ticket agent when they'd checked in for their flight. Amara was convinced that if she weighed five pounds more she wouldn't have been able to fit in the seat.

"Stop squirming. You've got plenty of room." Michelle told her nearly snapping. Sarina nodded.

"There's three inches on either side of your seat. We're not even touching you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Amara frowned for the hell of it. "I dunno why you even had to bring me here."

"You need to get laid." Michelle told her gleefully.

"And since none of the men at home seem to wind your clock, what better place than Vegas. There’s lots of fleshy goodness here." Sarina added, once again finishing her sister's sentence.

"Besides, it's your birthday. We always do something for your birthday."

"Nothing this drastic usually." Amara muttered with a deepening frown.

"We're bored of the usual."

The plane touched down and Amara's heart went with it. She fucking hated flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and con-crit are very much appreciated or if you just want to drop a line and say hello that would work as well. :)


	3. Tumbling

The hotel was expensive and flashy, something Amara generally avoided like the plague, and much too loud for her tastes. Hopefully the rooms had some serious insulation or soundproofing so she'd be able to sleep which was what she planned to do all weekend. So technically it wasn't the weekend, but since she and the twins always worked Fridays, Saturdays, and part of Sunday, Tuesday through Thursday was their weekend.

She waited with the twins while they checked in and raised an eyebrow in shock when she heard that the twins had reserved a suite with three bedrooms. How much had that cost? And how long had it taken them to be able to afford it? Working at the bookstore certainly didn't give them that kind of money. Had they won the lottery and not told her?

She walked to the elevator after taking her room key from Michelle and stepped in, hitting the button to close it before the twins could get in to ride up with her. It only served them right for making her go out and do things. She preferred the nice, quiet, hermit lifestyle she'd slipped into. It was safe and comfortable with very few surprises.

Amara couldn't help but think that this trip was going to have one of the biggest surprises of her life in store for her. She only hoped that it wouldn't end up damaging her permanently. There, how was that for optimism?

The elevator stopped one floor down from where she needed to be, but the doors didn't open. She bit her lip wondering what was going on then remembered vaguely hearing something about swiping her keycard to get to their floor. Apparently it was supposed to keep undesirables out. Amara was pretty sure they were talking about hookers and drug dealers. She swiped her card and the elevator began its ascent into what was surely some gaudy hallway with gold and burgundy wallpaper and carpet that matched. Sneering at the thought she stepped out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened and bumped into someone, knocking them on their ass.

The almost twenty-eight year old tripped over the anonymous person's legs and tumbled over, dragging her small duffle bag with her. It flew from her hand and hit the wall, falling to land on their head.

"Oh, Jesus! Oh, my God!" She rolled off of what she determined was a very lanky male and climbed to her feet. "I am so sorry." She bit her bottom lip nervously as she leaned down and tried not to giggle when she lifted her bag off of his head. "I'm clumsy on the best of days and I wasn't paying attention. Please let me help you." When the figure didn't move, only blinked at her from under the shadow of her bag she gave in and giggled. "I'm sorry. Are you hurt? I don't mean to laugh. It's just . . . I giggle when I get nervous or when bad things happen. It's not funny."

"It kind of is actually." He murmured with a gentle British accent. One that spoke of higher education and lots of money. Something she'd never have. "It's not every day that I'm tackled in hotel corridors." He seemed to think about it for a second then nodded. "Just every other Tuesday."

"It's almost Wednesday." Amara murmured, still staring down at him while he lay in the floor.

"It's still Tuesday." He grinned, his lips the only part of his face not in the shadows and Amara felt herself smiling in return. He had one of those perfect infectious smiles. The ones people paid lots of money for. She bet it was natural. He smiled too perfectly for it to have been manufactured. People that bought those kinds of smiles always had a bit of shyness about them as if they couldn't quite get over the habit of not smiling as wide as they should have.

When the elevator dinged signaling another stop she and the, as of yet, unidentified man both jolted like they'd been shocked. She giggled again as he laughed. A quiet chuckle that sounded dorky and endearing at the same time. She reached down with her free hand and helped him pull himself from the ground as the doors opened.

"Thank you."

"It's the least I can do. Especially since I knocked you over, tripped over you and then threw my bag on your head." He laughed again and she grinned at the way his tongue peeked out from between his teeth.

"Thank you, all the same."

"You're welcome."

Someone bumped into her from behind, knocking her into him and he caught her around the waist to keep her from falling. She met his eyes as he held her up and nearly gasped. God but they were gorgeous. Ocean blue with flecks of green and brown. They sparkled with mirth and crinkled at the corners as if he constantly smiled. He probably did. He was probably one of those annoyingly happy people that had never had anything go wrong in their annoyingly perfect lives.

Even his hair was annoyingly perfect. It was strawberry blonde and she knew if he hadn't styled it within an inch of its life would have dozens and dozens of curls. She'd always wanted curly hair. It made her want to muss his up. To tangle her fingers in it and comb out all of his careful work.

Someone bumped her again and she wound up with her face millimeters from his. Their lips almost touching. He seemed to have forgotten that his hands were still on her waist. She looked over her shoulder and saw the twins smiling secretly then slink away toward the suite. She sighed and shook her head. Why was her getting laid so important to them?

The spell between them broken, she backed away from him and the warmth of his hands on her skin. She swore she felt his touch through her t-shirt. Maybe she had, her shirt was kind of thin. He blinked at her then dropped his hands awkwardly to his sides, tucking his thumbs under his fingers in a loose fist. Amarantha could only think that it was a good way to get his thumbs broken if he needed to punch someone. Probably he didn't punch very many people is why he did it.

"Um . . . I have to . . . my friends." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder awkwardly and he nodded.

"Oh, yes. Of course." So gracious. Another point marked off in her book. Even though he was absolutely gorgeous and extremely polite she almost frowned at him. It was those people who could be the worst. Who had the most secrets and hurt people whether they intended to or not.

"I'm sorry, again."

"No harm done." He gave her another smile then stepped past her and into the elevator that sat with its doors open. Waiting for someone to make it useful. "Goodnight."

"Thanks, you too." Amara gave him a gentle smile as the doors closed then turned in the direction the twins had taken off in. She almost dreaded going to their rooms now. She knew there would be non-stop questions about the man in the hallway and she'd have to tell them what happened. Maybe not all of it, she did deserve to keep those few quiet seconds where they had practically kissed a secret from them. Then again they'd probably seen all of it and wouldn't say a word about it.

If only she were that lucky.


	4. Walking

As soon as Amara walked into the suite she was bombarded with questions from the twins. Who was that? What had happened? Did she get his number? Would she be seeing him again? She ignored the both of them as best as she could while she walked down the short hallway to the bedrooms. She decided the one with the black bow on the door knob was hers. If the room wasn't hers then too bad, she was taking it anyway.

The room was massive, especially for a hotel room. The walls were covered with silver and black velvet flocked fabric wallpaper. The bed, covered in a black velvet blanket was the biggest bed she’d ever seen. Bigger than a king size. The only thing that came to mind was that if you wanted to you could probably have an orgy on it. Amara grimaced; she didn’t like people enough to even think about having an orgy.

She tossed her bag over to the side toward the closet then bit her bottom lip. She didn’t want the twins knowing what she was about to do. They would never let her live it down. She’d been long past such childish things. Yeah right. She laughed then ran at full speed across the room and launched herself on the bed. She bounced; nearly falling to the floor then caught herself and rolled back to the middle of the mattress. She giggled as the springy mattress kept bouncing her up and down and she squealed when the twins ran into the room and jumped onto the bed beside her.

“This bed alone is reason enough to come here.” Amara murmured when they had quieted and the bed had stopped bouncing them around.

“So was that man in the hallway.” Sarina said with a sigh. She almost agreed with Amara about the bed, but seeing Loki in the hallway of their hotel was a bonus. The extra bonus was the look on his face while he stared at Amara. Sarina knew that neither Michelle nor Amara knew who he was since they didn’t watch a lot of comic book movies, but Sarina did. The fact that Loki in the movieverse was drop dead gorgeous helped. Sarina thought it was hysterically funny that Amara had tackled Tom Hiddleston in the hallway and hadn’t even known who he was.

"So? Who was tall, blonde, and gorgeous?" Michelle asked with a mischievous grin. Amara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely.

"Just a guy I ran into."

"Mmm. I'd like to run into him myself. Damn." Sarina's lecherous smile made Amara sigh and shake her head.

"No shit." Michelle sighed. "Dude was fucking hot."

"Amara thinks so too. It's why she's not saying anything. Besides, she almost kissed him. Did you see that?"

"I did."

"Seriously? You're the ones that knocked me into him. And we didn't almost kiss."

"Someone's getting defensive." Michelle and Sarina said in a singsong. Amara shook her head. It always weirded her out when they did that. They reminded her of the little girls from _The Shining_.

"I'm not dealing with this. I'm going for a walk. I'll be back later." With that she pocketed her keycard and walked out of the room leaving the twins grinning after her.

"She's in lust," Michelle murmured to her twin, watching the door swing shut behind their longtime friend.

"Five bucks says she's going looking for him." Michelle shook her head.

"Five bucks says she finds him whether she wants to or not." Sarina nodded

"I hope so. Did you see the look in his eyes?"

"Yeah, but she didn't."

 

 


	5. Tripping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter for a little while. I'm moving and won't have internet where I'm going for a couple weeks. (╯︵╰,) I should have some chapters that are a little bit longer than usual as well when I return.

Amara sighed heavily as she stared at her reflection in the polished metal of the elevator doors. Why couldn't the twins leave well enough alone? She knew they only had her best interests at heart, but why didn't they realize that it was in her best interests not to get mixed up in another relationship? Why would she willingly put herself in that situation again? Why would she hand her heart to someone only to have it thrown to the ground and brutally crushed under their feet? Once was enough thank you very much.

The few people behind her in the elevator shifted impatiently as it crawled to a stop and she couldn't wait to get away from them. She knew it was unfounded, but it felt like they stared at her. Seeing some fault that she had yet to find about herself. Something she hadn't seen.

Her hair was straight and so dark red it was nearly black. Sable, her mother had said. Her skin was a perpetual tan. Her lips were full and her brows arched perfectly over brown eyes so dark they seemed black. She smiled and it was less than perfect. Mostly due to a sledding accident when she'd been ten. The dentist had assured her mother that her front teeth would straighten out on their own after being knocked loose by the tree that Amara had slammed into. He had lied and her front teeth where still slightly crooked. Probably it wasn't as noticeable as she thought it was, but still. Other than that she was your typical half Cherokee, half Irish girl. It seemed she hadn't inherited anything from her Irish father except for skin a few shades lighter than her mother’s. The color of coffee with two creamers in. That and a pesky sense of pessimism. Everything else she'd gotten from her mother.

She looked to her feet and wished she'd thought to put on more comfortable shoes before she'd left the room. The doors opened and she walked out automatically to keep the people behind her from jostling her around. She bumped into someone and managed to trip over her own feet, falling into them and making them crash to the ground. Instead of helping them up people scattered to either side and went about their business.

"Assholes. Ever heard of common courtesy?" She pushed herself up; hovering over the person she'd knocked down and started to giggle when she saw who it was. "I think you're over your quota."

He blinked up at her just realizing who she was then laughed. "No. It's Wednesday now and this is the hotel lobby."

"This is your every other Wednesday?" He nodded with a grin.

"Yep."

She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears with one hand, the other still holding her up so she wouldn't squish him. "I think that I owe you a drink this time. Coffee at least." He nodded reaching up to smooth a lock of her hair back behind her ear when it fell. He wound up twirling the silky lock between his fingers as he stared at her.

She was no less beautiful this time around. Her eyes were the color of dark chocolate, her hair such a rich shade of dark red it reminded him of a Sable fur wrap that his mother had once owned. Her skin was the color of coffee with cream and her red lips were stretched in a smile that had her eyes lighting up. If he looked down he would see that the neck of her shirt was hanging down and her generous breasts would be on display for him. He flicked his eyes down, unable to help himself and if she didn't move off of him soon she'd be able to tell what he thought of her.

She didn't seem to realize that she was practically straddling him in the middle of a crowded lobby. He shifted under her slightly and she settled more fully on him. Her thighs cradling his hips. He nearly groaned. If they'd been in private he would have.

"I think we're causing a scene." He murmured breaking the spell between them as he let go of her hair. She nodded with a sheepish smile then stood and once again pulled him from the floor.

"I'm sorry. Again."

He grinned at her turning his hand in hers to twine their fingers together. He didn't want to stop touching her. Loved the way her skin seemed to warm under his. He suddenly wanted to know what the rest of her felt like. If the rest of her body was as soft as her hands. What would she feel like going pliant underneath him? Heat burned in his gaze as he reached for her with his other hand and she gasped when he pulled her against him.

"I don't know your name." Her words stopped him and he let her go as if he'd been burned. What had possessed her to say that? Why did she say it? She hated herself for it. She wanted to know what he tasted like. Probably like cinnamon or maybe cotton candy. She didn’t know why she thought cotton candy. She had the sudden craving for the sugary sweet now. "I . . ." Amara bit her bottom lip nervously. "I think we need that drink now." He drew in a shuddering breath and nodded with a sigh.

"I think you're right."

The two turned and walked toward the hotel bar and then grimaced when they saw the amount of people still in it. Although technically Vegas never slept. Or was that New York? Amara always got them confused. They looked to each other with gentle smiles.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah."


	6. Fluttering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out a little dorky, but . . . well, I tried. Also, I've (mostly) finished moving and still have no internet but will try to update when I can until it's on. The only internet I have there is on my mobile and I'm too lazy to move things from my laptop to my phone. I'll be out of state for three weeks starting Saturday and will have internet there and will update as much as possible until I get back to make up for not being able to post regularly when I do get home.

"Why do you think we've run into each other twice in one night?" The question came suddenly, breaking the somewhat awkward silence between them. Amara took a sip of her coffee then sat it on the table with a smile. It was damn good coffee. Too strong with too much cream and sugar. Just the way she liked it. The guy, they'd never introduced themselves, drank his nearly black. Eck. Another point off.

"Well, we didn't run into each other. I ran into you. As for the why? I'm clumsy and don't pay attention to where I'm going. Unless I'm driving."

"That makes sense."

"You're laughing at me." She told him with a grin.

"Only a little bit,” he laughed.

"It's just a coincidence."

"I prefer to think of it as fate."

"I don't believe in fate."

"Oh?"

"I can't imagine that there’s this force if you will that's pushing people in one direction or the other. We already know what we're going to do. Where we're going with our lives. We only have to make it happen. Fate is just an excuse people use when they can't understand why something turned out the way it did. It’s fate not to get this job or it’s fate that you've met this person or fate that your car broke down on the way to your sister's wedding. Fate didn't make me trip over you twice. It's just a coincidence."

He laughed. "So there's no convincing you that it is fate?"

"Nope. It's all one huge, gigantic coinkidink."

"Coinkidink?" He said it with an amused expression as if testing the way the word sounded.

"Coincidence."

"Next you'll tell me there's no God."

"There are two things I don't discuss." she murmured with a half-smile. "Religion and politics. Wars are fought over that kind of thing. Literally and figuratively. I will say however that I believe in God. Just maybe not in the hellfire and damnation way that a lot of people do." Oh, God. It was the wrong thing to say. She knew it as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but she couldn't do anything about it. Now he was going to get pissed and start bitching at her.

"I've always thought benevolence would work better than threats of hellfire and damnation." She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until he said it. She let out a gasping laugh then took a sip of her coffee when he grinned.

"Okay."

"So, what brings you to Vegas? Girls night out?"

"Em . . . It's my birthday today and the twins decided to drag me here for it. They usually do something for me and were tired of the usual I guess. So here I am. What about you?"

"Some work meetings." He said it with an inconsequential shrug as if maybe it wasn't that important. "I'm here for a few days and then I'm going back home."

"Where is home?"

"London."

Amara smiled. "Is it as beautiful as it looks in pictures?" She'd always had a secret desire to go. Ever since she'd started watching Doctor Who which she'd never hear the end of if the twins found out.

"More so. You should go sometime. Go on the Eye. Take a tour of the Tower of London."

Amara shook her head with a self-depreciating smile. "I can't. I might never come back. That and I don't get enough time off of work to do that."

"What do you do?"

"Work at a bookstore. I love it. All those new books with their pages ready to be turned. The bindings unbroken. The smell of fresh ink on paper. The feel of a new cover and the amazement of getting to read something new. Learn something new. Right at your fingertips. All you have to do is pick one up and be transported into another world. One not so crazy as this one. One where good almost always triumphs over evil and even when it doesn't it can still be better than this because evil isn’t always evil. Sometimes there’s a good reason for it.”

Amara fell silent, looking down at her coffee cup, suddenly lost in thought. He'd been so wrapped up in her excitement it took him a second to realize that she'd made herself sad. How suddenly it had happened. Why had it happened? "That sounds wonderful, darling."

"Does it?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "Yeah it does."

"Do you read?"

"Oh, yes. Whenever I get a chance. I love losing myself in a book. All those new worlds to discover."

"You fall in love with some of them don't you? I mean not just the books but the people or places in them. You feel this sort of connection to them. Maybe it's just me and I spend too much time with books instead of people." She bit her bottom lip. She'd just made herself sound like a fucking psycho.

"No," he told her as if hearing her internal thoughts. "You do fall in love with them a little bit."

"Books are easier than people." And now she'd made it worse. "Anyway back to London. I think if I went, it would feel like home and I'd never come back. I hope it would feel like home. Some place must." And there she went again. Gloomy as hell and ruining what had been a perfect conversation with her cynicism and bullshit. Now he'd never talk to her again. Of course she generally preferred that people not talk to her but, she sighed, maybe she'd miss this one. Now that was a bad sign.

"We all look for a place to call home, darling. It just takes some of us longer to find it. You'll find it. Maybe it will be London." God he hoped it would be London. "Or maybe you'll get there and find that you can't stand it." Please let it be London. What was he thinking? He'd known the woman all of five minutes. Why was he trying to make plans? God laughed at your plans and all you could do was keep moving. Tom kept moving.

"Maybe," Amara admitted quietly. She took another drink of her coffee then grinned. "I have to ask you something and feel free to smack me if it's rude."

He laughed wondering if he needed to be insulted or not. "All right."

"How many chances am I going to get to do this, right?" His smile fell. Fuck! She knew who he was. He should have known. It figured that he'd meet someone and think they didn't know and then poof 'oh hey, can I have your autograph before you go? I had a really nice time. Can I get a picture of us? No one will believe me if I don’t.' Fuck. He really liked her too. She was funny and smart and kind and very beautiful. Of course it all could be an act as well.

"Do you, as a resident Brit, watch Doctor Who?" The question stunned him out of his thoughts and so did her mischievous grin.

"I'm sorry?" He had expected anything but that.

"Do you watch Doctor Who? Is that stereotyping?" He laughed until tears came to his eyes. God, what a relief.

"Yes. I watch Doctor Who. Who doesn't?"

"I know right? Seriously. It's the best show ever." He nodded. "Okay did you watch the classics or just the revamp?"

"Both."

"Okay. Favorite Doctor from both eras?"

"Tom Baker and Matt Smith."

"No way."

"Yep."

"Me too. Well, Tom Baker anyway. Matt Smith is cool, but David Tennant was awesome. Favorite episode?"

"The Van Gogh episode."

"I love that one. The one with the Adipose are my favorite though. They're so cute!" She felt like an idiot being fangirly over Doctor Who, but if he was being a fanboy over it she could too.

They continued their talk over more coffee. Talking about the places they'd been and what they had seen. Had she ever been to Paris? A shocked why not when he found out she hadn't. She told him it was a city for lovers and she didn't have one so never went. It was too sappy anyway. He had laughed telling her that if she ever went to London and he wasn't busy working that he would take her to Paris. She didn't need a lover to go. Maybe just a friend.

She had nodded still looking unsure about it and he had changed the subject back to books and favorite television shows. Only when she began to yawn between answers and questions did he realize they'd been sitting for over two hours doing nothing but talking. Somehow his hand had found hers on the table and their fingers were twined together as they spoke. They were leaning toward each other in excitement and what he thought were the beginnings of something else. He wouldn't call it love, but something akin to it. They hadn't looked away from each other’s eyes in longer than he realized and their faces were only inches apart.

He could kiss her right at that moment. He wasn't sure if she would accept it or punch him. She seemed to be firmly against any kind of entanglement, but did she not realize they'd been holding hands for the better part of an hour? Did she not realize he only needed to lean forward those scant inches and press his lips to hers? Did she not know how badly he wanted to do it?

"I should go." she murmured quietly. He blinked letting of her hand when she backed away from him and slid her hand from his. "It's getting late and I'm sure the girls have something planned for today. They'll probably want to start early just to drive me crazy. Crazier?" She shrugged. "Anyway."

"Yes, of course. I'll walk you back." She gave him a gentle smile.

"Okay." He stood then took her hand helping her stand. He smiled as they began to walk and once they were clear of the coffee shop she laid her head against his shoulder. He smiled down at her and she gave him a sheepish one in return.

"How old are you today?" he asked when they neared their hotel.

"Twenty-eight. Do you remember, when you were a kid I mean, thinking that thirty was old?"

"I'm sure I must have at some point."

"Thirty doesn't seem so old now." He shook his head.

"No, but I'm practically decrepit."

"How old are you?" she asked with a laugh.

"Thirty-three."

"You are getting up there in age. Better be careful about your blood pressure and cholesterol." He laughed giving her hand a gentle squeeze as he led her into the hotel and through the lobby to the lift.

"You're not so far behind me." he told her grinning as the doors to the lift slid closed.

"True. You look good for an old man." He laughed bringing her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers without thought. A companionable gesture. She gasped and he lowered her hand thinking that she was fixing to slap him. He looked down to meet her eyes and saw shock and spark of something else. Did she want him to kiss her? Did she want it as badly as he did? Only one way to find out.

He leaned down those last few inches and pressed his lips to hers gently. They were pillow soft and pliant under his. A quiet gasp escaped them and she lifted her other hand to the back of his neck, holding him in place when he would pull away. Her lips moved against his, a dance as old as time. When he moved to deepen the kiss, to slide his tongue over the seam of her lips she shuddered, her grip tightening on his hand and neck. Her tongue met his with a quiet moan and then she sprang back from him when the elevator stopped with a ding. Their breathing was ragged and she looked at everything but him as people filled the lift.

Damn it. She turned in on herself. When the elevator began its ascent and everyone got out on their respective floors they were once again alone. The lift stopped one floor below theirs and he swiped his keycard automatically. She hadn't said another word. Whether she was embarrassed or hating herself for getting lost in the moment he didn't know. He hoped she wouldn't pull away from him completely.

The lift stopped and they stepped out of it in silence. She brushed her hand down his arm with a shy smile then walked toward the suite she was sharing with the twins.

"I don't know your name." He called out, jogging after her. She turned to him with a grin, her keycard in hand.

"It's Amara," she murmured when he stepped up to her.

"Amara." He loved the way it sounded. She loved the way it rolled off of his tongue.

"It's short for Amarantha." He smiled, glad that she hadn't pulled completely away from him.

"I'm Tom. Short for Thomas." She laughed then stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

"It's lovely to meet you, Tom."

"It's lovely to meet you as well, Amara."

"I had a nice time." He nodded.

"Me too."

"Goodnight, Thomas."

"Goodnight, Amarantha." He gave her a gentle kiss then pulled away to go to his own room. He turned and watched her walk into hers then laughed. "Here's something else for fate." He waved his keycard then opened his own door. "We're across the corridor from each other."

"Coincidence." She laughed then backed into her room and shut the door.

Oh, wow. She grinned, unable to stop herself as she slid down the door and sat on the ground. If she'd been in her right mind she would have never done such an idiotic and girlish thing. She had swooned over someone. Someone that she would most likely never see again. Maybe that was for the best. Never seeing him again. It would only lead to heartbreak and pain. Definitely for her, probably for the both of them. She wouldn't chance it. She didn't want to be hurt again, would do anything to prevent it. More than that though, she didn't want to hurt him. She'd never done that before. At least not since the douchebag as the twins had put it. She wanted to put someone before herself.

It was a bad sign. She was sure of it. She needed a bath and then her bed. Somehow she knew there wasn't enough soap or hot water on the planet to wash Tom from her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just realized that my timelines are all screwy in Vegas' world vs. the real world and I while don't particularly care because this is after all, a fic, I'm just letting you know so it won't become an issue later. （＾_＾）


	7. Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned on updating sooner than this, but things got in the way. (☆^ー^☆)

Amara woke with a start, the twins running into her room and screaming excitedly. She groaned, rolling away from them and pulling her pillow over her head. She'd been plagued by strange dreams all night. She had found herself standing in the ballroom of the hotel. A dozen faces she didn't know surrounding her. She was completely and utterly alone with them and it scared her. They spun and whirled, dancing and talking and laughing loudly. She clung to the wall wishing it would swallow her. Something slithered down her legs and she looked down to see red silk swirling around her legs.

_"Amara."_ A voice called her name and she looked up to see Tom staring at her from across the room. The strawberry blonde just standing there unnerved her more than being in a room full of people she didn't know. He held his hand out to her, his eyes holding her gaze. She shook her head.

_"No."_

_"Dance with me."_

She shook her head again, the word 'no' running through her mind like a mantra. Even so, her feet carried her across the room. The strangers, still dancing, parted in front of her giving her room to walk. The red silk of her dress swished around her legs, red heels that had been dyed to match clicked on the polished floor. She put her hand in his; all the while shaking her head and he pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips to hers.

She pushed against him, trying to free herself as he spun her around the room. Forcing her to dance with him or else be dragged across the floor. Everything else faded except for him. Except for her Tom if she chose to keep him. The room was nothing but darkness now. The only light shined on them as they moved in a slow waltz. At least she thought it was a waltz. She'd never danced with anyone before.

His smile terrified her even more. It was the gentle smile he'd given her before but there was an underlying darkness to it. Something that wanted to spill into her and chain her to him forever. She started struggling again, hitting and pushing at him even as he spun her. She finally jerked her knee up, hoping to hit him anywhere that hurt and he let her go with a sharp exhale of breath. She ran then. Running through the darkness in search of a way out.

Doors appeared before her and she threw them open, one after the other. Behind each one was Tom. Each of them identical. Each of them wearing the black silk suit and blue tie that matched his eyes. All of them giving her that gentle smile and holding out a beckoning hand.

 

Amara shuddered bringing herself back from the dream. Thank God the twins had woken her, but she was still so damned tired she could fall right back to sleep if they'd let her. She knew they wouldn't. No, it had to be her fucking birthday and they had to have something planned for it no matter her objections.

"Go away and let me sleep."

"What time did you get in last night?" Michelle asked quietly as she pulled the pillow from Amara's head.

"Dunno. I'm tired and I didn't sleep for shit."

"Why?"

"Nightmares."

"Oh," Sarina sounded disappointed and Michelle nodded. "We thought it would have been dreams about tall, blonde, and gorgeous."

"It was."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Thanks. Any half-assed psychologist would tell me it was only my subconscious telling me that I have a fear of personal relationships and commitment."

"Did he ask you out?"

"No. I did. I mean . . . I ran into him again. In the lobby. I told him that I owed him a drink. We went for coffee. Talked. Had a good time. He walked me back to the room, kissed me goodnight." _A little more than goodnight._ "And that was it." She shrugged as she rolled onto her back and frowned a little at the look that the twins shared. Something passed between them and her frown deepened. "What?"

"Did you at least get his number?"

"No. I think it is best that I stay as far away from him as I can." She sat up, shaking her long hair over her shoulders. "It can't go any further." She wouldn't let it.

There was a knock on the door of their suite and Amara jumped. Paranoid? Her? Nah. Maybe just a bit. She hoped to God it wasn't him. She looked to the clock at her bedside and let out a quiet breath. It was nearly noon. For all she knew he was already gone. Maybe it wasn't him. Hopefully it wasn't him.

The twins shared another look then gave her one of pity and went to answer the door leaving her to her thoughts. Such heavy things to be thinking of when first wakened. It wouldn't do any good to dwell on things. On him. The touch of his hands, his long elegant fingers twined with hers. His skin soft, but not unaccustomed to hard work. His knuckles had been slightly bruised as if he'd been boxing. Training for something maybe. His soft lips against her own. Mashing, melding themselves to hers. The gentle trace of his tongue over the seam of her lips. The sweet taste of him that reminded her of cinnamon and chocolate. Not an unpleasant combination. His soft curls brushing against her hand at the nape of his neck.

"Amara! You've got a delivery." Michelle called from the living room of the suite and Amara sighed. Why couldn't they leave her alone? Just for a little bit. She was tired and confused beyond words.

"What?"

"A package."

"From who?"

"Doesn't say. Get in here and open it. We want to see."

The twenty-eight year old let out a heavy sigh and walked into the living room still wearing her oversized t-shirt and panties she had slept in to find the twins sitting on the couch staring bright eyed at two boxes that sat on the coffee table. One was small and was probably only big enough to hold a coffee cup. The other was larger and looked about the size of a cake box. Both were wrapped in elegant black and silver paper and tied with black ribbon bows. A card was tied to the smaller box and she pulled it loose as she sat between the twins.

She opened the card and smiled at the elegant scrawl. _Happy Birthday, Amara. May it be everything you hope for and more. Tom_

She couldn't help the grin that her gentle smile turned into. Man, oh man, did she have it bad. What she needed was rid of it. Maybe he'd gotten her something completely inappropriate that would make her hate him. Like a bomb that would blow as soon as she pulled the ribbon off of the box. Okay, maybe a bomb was a little extreme, but she didn't know what else it could be.

"Is it from him?" Sarina asked quietly.

Amara nodded, handing her the card. She picked up the smaller box and pulled the ribbon off and gently undid the tape that held the paper shut. She had always unwrapped gifts carefully and it had annoyed the twins endlessly. They preferred to tear it off and make as big of a mess as they could with the paper. She folded it gently; not wanting to tear it then sat it on the coffee table and opened the small box. A peek inside made her giggle hysterically. A small Adipose plush sat inside surrounded by tissue paper and a small assortment of chocolates. She lifted the Adipose out of the box and hugged it to her with one arm and laughed again when she saw a Tardis necklace. She sat the Adipose down and slipped the necklace on then picked up the plush again.

"Doctor Who stuff? He bought you Doctor Who stuff? Oh, my God. He's a nerd like you. You have to keep him." Amara was so lost in thought that she nodded, not paying attention to what Michelle had said.

"What's in the other box?"

"Dunno, yet." Amara sat the plush back on the table then opened the second box just as carefully as the first. She was almost certain it was a cake of some sort and was afraid she was right and would accidently dump it upside down on the floor. She lifted the lid and her smile widened. Inside was a cake done in white buttercream icing with a Tardis flying in front of the Doctor Who logo painted on it.

"He's perfect." Sarina told her with a quiet laugh as she sat the cake on the table. "Did he leave a way to tell him thank you?"

"No. He didn't."

"Well shit."

That was Amara's sentiment exactly.

She never even thought to go across the hall and see if he was still at the hotel and she had completely forgotten her vow to stay away from him.


	8. Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit long, but I couldn't find a way to break it up that wouldn't make it exceptionally short or end awkwardly. I did promise longer chapters though, so there's that.

Amara looked in the mirror at her reflection. Her hair wouldn't quite fall the way she wanted it to, but she was getting tired of messing with it. The twins were pestering her in an attempt to get her to hurry up so they could go to the club they'd found earlier in the day. It only made Amara drag her ass even more.

She'd taken her time showering and blow drying her hair. Doing her makeup and picking out her dress. She only had two with her, but both of them were favorites. One was blue silk that reminded her of Tom's eyes. It was a halter dress that clung to her curves and left her back nearly bare. The short skirt of it was flouncy and almost to her knees. She knew it twirled well when she danced, but because it reminded her of his eyes it was nixed.

The other was a 1950's inspired swing type dress. It was black and had vintage tattoo styled mermaids, skulls, anchors and roses on it. The roses were lilac and an almost cornflower blue. The mermaid's tails were a light shade of turquoise and the skulls where whitish gray with lilac shadowing. It was cute as hell and she'd only worn it once before. She had a pair of black Betty Page style pumps and a black cardigan that went with it perfectly.

If only she could do something with her hair. She fussed with it once more deciding the loose curls she'd done would have to do. Short of Victory Rolls which were a pain in the ass and looked stupid unless done just right, she was out of options. She didn't really like the Victory Rolls all that much anyway.

"Amara! Come on. We're going to miss everything."

"It's only nine." Aside from the girls taking her out for lunch after their breakfast of coffee and birthday cake she had managed to make them let her stay in until now. Sarina yelled something that Amara didn't catch and the sable haired girl shook her head. It was probably something uncouth anyway. Which didn't necessarily bother Amara, but still there was a time and place for it.

Amara touched up her eyeliner one more time then threw it into the small skull shaped clutch that matched her dress. Her black and grey eye shadows went in next as well as her powder and lipstick. Her ID and cell phone were already in it as well. With nothing else left to procrastinate with she walked into the living room to see the twins waiting impatiently by the door.

Michelle was wearing tight black jeans, a pair of red stiletto pumps and a red silk halter top that left her shoulders bare. Sarina was wearing a black baby doll t-shirt that had the Guns N' Roses logo on it, a pair of skintight black jeans that sparkled with black iridescent rhinestones and a pair of black combat boots that rose to her knees. Amara smiled at them and Michelle motioned for her to do a spin. She gave them a half-assed twirl, the skirt of her dress flaring around her and grinned.

"Alright, let's get this torture over with."

"It won't be torture. Hopefully you'll find someone you like enough to have sex with. You've been kind of bitchy. Just remember the cobwebs, Am. Remember the cobwebs." Michelle giggled as she said it and Amara rolled her eyes.

"You're insane. The both of you."

"It's why you love us."

"I'm pretty sure your mama ate paint chips when she was pregnant with you."

"Hey now. You know we don't like to talk about that." Sarina told her with a frown. Amara laughed walking out of the suite, leaving them to follow her. She couldn't help but glance at the door to Tom's room and wondered if he was still in the hotel. Maybe she'd ask on their way out.

 

Michelle and Sarina watched Amara pouting into her apple martini. Apparently Tom had either lied about his name or had checked in under another name. When they had stopped at the desk they had been informed that no one named Tom had been staying in the room across the hall. Amara had been pouting ever since.

"I knew it. Fucking jerk."

"If he's such a jerk why did he send you stuff for your birthday?" Michelle asked quietly.

"Dunno. Don't care. Asshole." She still hadn't taken off the Tardis necklace though. Partly because he'd given it to her, but mostly because it was the Tardis.

"You need to drink your martini and then come dance with us. Get your mind off it for a little bit. Maybe the chick at the desk was confused."

"Maybe." Amara decided not to dwell on it and downed her martini, following with a shot of vodka and then walked out onto the dance floor with the twins following after her.

She closed her eyes letting the pounding beat of a nameless song sing through her blood. She began to move to it, letting it guide the rhythm of her movements. She felt eyes on her, but kept hers closed as she danced, concentrating on the music. She didn't want any interruptions. She knew the twins were staying close as they were wont to do when they went dancing. They knew she didn't like being in large crowds on her own. It was something that had stayed with her through her childhood and into adulthood. She had never been comfortable with crowds.

In the seventh grade when she'd had to stand in front of the glass and give a speech she'd gotten so nervous she'd puked all over her papers and the teacher's desk. It had been humiliating, but the teacher had allowed her to redo the speech between classes where no one else would be listening to her. She couldn't stand all the kids’ eyes on her. She still hated it. If she hadn't worked at the bookstore where she didn't have to interact with very many customers, always as a last resort, she didn't know what she'd be doing because she couldn’t be around people without getting paranoid and creeped out.

When she had been ten her parents had decided to get divorced. It had been a nasty affair and Amara had learned at that tender age that people were not to be trusted or encouraged in any way. Her parents had always promised that they would be there for her and had lied. Daddy had gone back to Ireland and she hadn't seen him again until she was eighteen and had tracked him down. He had barely recognized her behind what Amara had realized was a drunken stupor.

She had religiously avoided men until Ville had come into her life during her junior year of college. He was two years older than her and working on his literature major. He was intelligent and funny and very kind. After three months of dating he'd swept her off of her feet and into his bed. Two weeks later he'd done it to her roommate. A leggy blonde that Amara had despised from day one. Amara had tried to tell herself it wasn't jealousy.

After that Amara had sworn off men once again and had done it ever since. A year later she had graduated as an art history major and kept working at a bookstore because a major in art history meant jack shit unless she wanted to teach. Three years later she was still working at the bookstore. She didn't want to go back to college or teach a class to a bunch of smartassed kids. That and she'd wind up throwing up all over herself if she tried. Truthfully she couldn’t imagine having any other job besides working for the bookstore. She loved it too much. One day she hoped to open a bookstore of her own.

Three songs had started and finished while she was lost in her thoughts and the twins pulled her to the bar. "We need more booze." Amara nodded with a grim smile.

"Ain’t that the truth.”

She was going to get as drunk as she could. She deserved it.

 

Four shots of vodka and three rum and Cokes later Amara was leaned against the bar watching the twins dancing with two guys. The men looked slightly familiar, but she couldn't place them anywhere. Maybe they just looked like someone she'd known before. With their builds they could have been brothers but their faces was what let her know they weren't. Both were tall and blonde. One had shoulder length hair and the other short. Both had blue eyes, but nothing as close to the blue that Tom’s were. One was scruffy and the other clean shaven. Both were broad across the shoulders and had narrow waists, long legs that she knew would eat up whatever floor they wanted to walk across. Amara wouldn't be surprised if the twins wound up going back to the hotel with them. Probably it wouldn't happen since it was her birthday, but even so she still wouldn't be surprised.

The song changed and she smiled recognizing it. Daft Punk's _Lucky_ filled the club and she turned her gaze away from the twins and their men. The sight that met her eyes had her nearly choking on her rum and Coke. Tom was dancing to the song, surrounded by people forming a loose circle around him. He had cleared part of the floor and she laughed. His dancing was enthusiastic if not skilled. She laughed as she watched him. He didn't have a care in the world except for the music. He did something twisty with his hips that had her biting her bottom lip and wishing she could join him. On the floor, she insisted to the little devil that sat on her shoulder and whispered 'In bed.'

She watched him until the song ended and he laughed at something someone said. The geeky chuckle and his tongue peeking out between his teeth had her sighing with a smile on her face. She finished her drink as she watched him walking toward the bar then turned and ordered another. She half wanted him to find her and half wanted him to miss her completely. New drink in hand she turned and saw him standing only a few feet from her. His gaze moved over her and she bit back a pout. He hadn't seen her. She took a sip of her drink then smiled when his gaze shot back to her.

"Amara?" She nodded and he rushed to her, a happy smile on his face. "I didn't expect to see you again."

"The twins brought me dancing." He took her free hand in his and looked to the bartender.

"Three more of what she's having." Satisfied that his order would be filled he pulled her off of her seat and to a blessedly empty table.

"It's rum and Coke." He nodded.

"Good. I was half afraid it was something vile." She laughed making him grin. "You look beautiful, Amara."

"Thank you. You do too." And she meant it. He wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black slacks and shoes that were shined to perfection. The white shirt was a bit too tight and the fabric stretched at the buttons, but it wasn't because he was a little chubby for it. It was muscle she could tell. Not the bulky muscle of a body builder, but the lean muscle of someone that liked to keep in shape. Sweat covered the skin that she could see and her eyes followed a droplet that rolled down is neck to disappear under the collar of his shirt. She had the insane desire to lick the trail and slide her tongue under the stark white fabric.

"I see you got your birthday gifts." His voice broke her from those dangerous thoughts and she smiled.

"It's lovely, Tom." She murmured reaching up to the Tardis necklace. "Thank you so much. I didn't know if I was going to get to tell you or not. The Adipose was a nice touch."

He grinned as one of the waitresses brought their drinks to the table then slid a couple bills onto the tray she'd carried their drinks on. It was more than what the drinks cost, but he figured anyone that was willing to do that kind of job deserved a large tip after dealing with some of the people they had to deal with. She smiled in thanks then walked away leaving them alone.

“I’m glad we ran into each other again,” Tom told her, leaning close so they could hear each other over the music.

“I almost hate to admit it, but I am too.”

“Why hate to admit it?”

“I was mad at you earlier.” Why was she telling him this? Something about him brought out a blunt sense of honesty she’d never really had before. What the hell?

“Mad? Whatever were you upset with me for, darling?”

“Well, on our way out I stopped at the desk and asked if you were still in. They said that no one named Tom had been staying in your room.”

“I see.” He licked his lips then took a sip of his drink. “It was only because I asked them not to tell anyone, Amara. I’ve got a lot of business meetings, at all hours, and I asked that I not be disturbed for any reason so if someone called for me or inquired about me that they should say I’ve not been here.”

“You in the mob? Is there a British mob? Or is it like a James Bond thing?”

Tom laughed at the grin on her face. She either thought he was insane or was over being mad at him. “No, I’m not in the mob nor do I have a James Bond thing. My work is much less exciting than that I’m afraid.”

“Pooh. I’m kind of disappointed now.”

“We can’t have that now, can we darling?”

“Nope. Make me excited again.” Tom grinned and Amara realized the implications of that sentence and blushed madly with a nervous giggle. “Shut up.” He only laughed harder; practically throwing his head back and she frowned at him and lightly kicked him under the table. His laughter quieted and she glared at him over her cup as she finished off her rum and Coke. He slid the other to her as a peace offering with a gentle smile and she laughed. “Hush.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking. I saw the wheels turning. Pervert. So you’re not in the mob and have no James Bond-y stuff going on. So what do you do?”

“A bit of everything.” That wasn’t the half of it.

“Uh huh. I’ve decided that you ride around on your mummy and daddy’s money. You’ve got a trust fund bigger than the population of Vegas, you’re well educated, have three cats named Tiffany, Coco, and Chanel, and a boyfriend that you’re hiding from me.”

He only blinked at her over the rim of his glass and she finally giggled. “You’ve a very interesting imagination, sweetheart.” He shook his head with a smile thinking she was close to being pissed.

“It passes the time and I read a lot. So I blame my books.”

“Will you dance with me, Amara?” He would do anything to change the subject so he wouldn’t have to tell her who he was and what he did for a living. So far she didn’t recognize him and for that he was immensely thankful. It was also refreshing to not have to answer to anyone or have someone asking him for an autograph or wanting to take a picture with him. He didn’t begrudge any of that. He had known it might one day happen when he’d started acting. If it wasn’t for the fans he wouldn’t be doing what he loved. Not on the scale he was working currently anyway.

“I’m sorry?”

“Will you dance with me?”

“Oh, um . . . I can’t dance.” No dancing with him. It was too close to the nightmare she’d had last night. She didn’t want to be dancing with him. As improbable as it sounded she was afraid he might not let her go if they danced together. It was something she’d do anything to prevent. Amara didn’t want to take any chances by dancing with him.

If she was smart the first thing she’d do was run away from him. Right now. She’d just get up and run and never look back. But she was also drunk and the drunken horny slut in her mind was urging her to get up and dance with him. To show him just how well she could dance, even while drunk. Amara tamped the bitch back down. “I’m too drunk to dance, Tom. Much too drunk.” She’d even slurred her words for affect and he gave her a challenging smile. “What?”

“Nothing, darling.” He nodded toward her empty glass. “You’ve finished your drink.”

“Oh,” Amara gave him a gentle smile in thanks when he slid his other drink across the table to her. “No, you drink it. You have to catch up to me.”

“How many have you had?”

“Six? Seven? Since we got to the club anyway. We had a few in the hotel before we left.”

“Then you need to catch up to me.”

“How many have you had?”

Tom smiled into his glass when he took the last drink. She was forgetting to slur her words. There was no way she was as drunk as she’d been pretending to be. Only two of her sentences had been slurred and much worse than they should have been. He would let her pretend, but she wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade. “Well, two of these now,” he told her sitting his glass down and taking the other back from her. He drank it quickly then slid the glass to the middle of the table. He was going to see just how drunk they could get. “A few pints of Guinness and I had a few pre-club drinks as well.”

“Oh, I do need to catch up then.” She grinned accepting the challenge. She was pretty sure she could drink him under the table. Maybe. Probably not, but it would be fun to try. Maybe not in the morning, but now it would be fun.

“What do you want to drink now?”

“I’ve never had Guinness before.”

“Oh, darling, you poor deprived thing. We’ll remedy that.” He patted her hand gently then stood and walked to the bar.


	9. Drinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to update. I had an unfortunate accident with my laptop involving soda being spilled on the keyboard. I've just made it home and had my computer guy switch out the keyboard so I can finally type properly. This chapter is not as long as I want it to be, but the next few will be and hopefully I will be able to update more regularly. 
> 
> I've barely glanced this over so if you see any grammatical or spelling errors please let me know and I will fix them ASAP.

Amara blinked at Tom when he finished his next to last glass of Guinness. She had tried her damnedest to keep up with him and so far had matched him beer for beer. How the hell was he drinking so much? Was his freaking leg hollow? She had never met anyone that could drink that much. Except her father. How was Tom doing it?

Tom grinned wickedly at his . . . Amara; she wasn’t his anything yet, as he sat the empty glass on the table. It knocked against some of the other glasses that littered the table and Amara giggled when he scrambled to keep them from falling off of the table. He gave her a slight pout then motioned for her to pick up her glass and drink. They only had one left after this and he was pretty sure they were both at their limit. They were both a lot more drunk than they would admit to and certainly more drunk than they realized. They both seemed alright at the moment, but he knew when they stood up it would be a different story.

Two women, twins from the look of it, walked up to their table and he gave them a polite smile. Amara was a bit less accommodating.

“What do you two want?”

The twins laughed. “We’re going back to the room. It’s late and we’re tired and you abandoned us.” Michelle said it with a grin hoping that Amara and the man she was with were drunk enough to keep from noticing that Sarina was digging her Amara’s purse to pocket her keycard to their rooms.

“Hey, you were the ones dancing with the blonde ones and left me to drink by myself at the bar.”

“And you left us so we’re even. Goodnight, Amara.” Sarina grinned at her longtime friend and Tom then walked off with her sister.

“She’ll kill us when she realizes we stole her key.” Michelle murmured.

“She won’t remember it. Did you see how wasted she was? Both of them? They’ll be lucky if they find their way back to the hotel.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t leave them.” Michelle looked over her shoulder to see Amara and her man giggling over their table full of empty glasses. Amara and the blonde had been having a drinking contest she could tell by the way they had left the empties on the table. What if something bad happened?

“They’ll be fine. She needs this.” Sarina gave her twin a reassuring smile and Michelle nodded with a heavy sigh.

“I know.”

Amara finished her last beer then sat the cup on the table with a clunk. Tom laughed then downed his and grinned at her as he sat the empty glass down.

“You wanna leave? I need some air.” She needed to get away from him before she did something stupid like kiss him or take him back to her hotel room and put him into her bed. Maybe outside of the club the choking desire for him she felt would lessen.

He nodded up at her and before Amara knew what was happening Tom had stood and she giggled watching him a sway a bit. She batted her hands at him when he pulled her out of her chair and started dragging her away. He let her go and she ran back to her chair, a bit more unsteady on her feet than she thought she should have been, for her cardigan and purse. He took her hand once again and began dragging her out of the club.

He walked her out of the club and stopped long enough to help her put her cardigan on. She smiled up at him then snuggled against his side as they began their drunken shuffle down the sidewalk.

“Where are we going, Tommy?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, darling.” The blonde wrapped his arm around her waist holding her closer and she smiled drunkenly up at him.

“Okay.” And wasn’t she wanting to go back to her hotel room and get away from him before she did something stupid? She was drunk enough and crushing on him enough to have her wanting to break her rule about sleeping with him. It was a horrible, terrible, idea to stay near him any longer. She wanted to leave him. She wanted to take him back to her hotel room and get him in bed with her.

“I still think it is fate we met, Amara. Three times now is not coincidence.” His abrupt words had her jumping. She’d been too lost in thought.

“You’re trying to take advantage of me while I’m drunk.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re trying to convince my beer addled brain that it is fate when it’s a complete series of accidental meetings.”

“See? It’s fate.”

“Coincidence.”

“It’s fate, sweetheart. We were supposed to meet. There’s a reason fate keeps throwing us together. I want to find out what it is.”

“If it’s fate we might as well just get married and get it over with.”  Tom smiled down at her then began dragging her down the sidewalk once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments, kudos, con-crit, etc are much appreciated.


	10. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than usual, eleven pages, so I kept my promise. Go me! (^.^) Also I should be able to update more regularly since everything is situated. I've got a few more chapters written and the basic outline for a few more. I'm still trying to figure out exactly how many chapters this is going to have.

Amara woke to light shining against her eyelids and turned onto her side with a quiet groan. This side of the room was blessedly dark. She didn’t think she’d had this much of a hangover after drinking since her twenty-first birthday. How much had she drunk? She tried to think back and could only manage to hear her brain sizzling and pounding in her skull. However much it had been had been way too much. It wasn’t like to her exceed her limits; it had been her birthday though. Even still she didn’t usually drink so much. Not when she knew what exceeding your limits could cost you.

She blinked her eyes open, wincing at the sandpaper feel of them, and ran a hand through her hair to push it back from her face. Long strands of her hair caught on something and she blinked at her hand. What she saw made her gasp and sit up quickly. Her head pounded even worse, her stomach rebelled, and her eyes filled with tears.

What had she done? And who had she done it with? She was half afraid she knew the answer but didn’t want to find out for sure. Not until she could think without her head threatening to explode. She didn’t have that luxury though. She scooted up the bed as carefully as possible and pulled the sheet up over her when she realized she was naked.  So was the blonde beside her on the bed. Tom was asleep with his back to her, his strawberry blonde hair had curled up and she almost grinned as she remembered combing her hands through his hair until all of his careful work had been undone.

Her smile fell with the realization that not only had she slept with Tom she’d somehow married him. Her eyes trailed down his body, trying to burn every inch of him into her memory, to the sheet that was draped haphazardly over his hips. She shook her head then winced. God it hurt to move. It hurt to breathe even. Her head was killing her and knowing she’d obviously married Tom was making it worse.

Did they not have rules in place so drunk people couldn’t get married? Who the hell would let drunken people get married?

She peeked at Tom’s hand and saw a platinum band on his ring finger. The band matched the one on her finger. The only difference was a row of small diamonds on hers. Her other ring, part of a wedding set she’d decided, was a quantum cut diamond with other smaller diamonds surrounding it on the band.

It looked expensive and she wondered how much he’d spent on something so frivolous. Why waste so much money on something that wasn’t permanent? Although it seemed he had the money to spend. The rings had to cost more than she made in a year and he’d thrown it away on her as if it were nothing.

He rolled over onto his back, the sheet slipping from his hips giving her an uninterrupted view of him and she looked away quickly and with a slight blush. She didn’t know why she was blushing, she’d obviously seen every inch of him before. He reached for her in his sleep and she took his hand hoping and praying that he wouldn’t wake up.

She sat in the silence of the room, her thoughts rushing through her mind at a million miles an hour. What the hell was she going to do? What was either of them going to do? She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles and shook her head. She needed to go to her room. She needed to get away from him before she did something stupid like wake him up and talk to him. Kiss him and see if he tasted as good as she thought he had last night. Wake him up with quiet touches that ended up with them making love. She needed to leave. She lifted his hand and kissed his fingers then gently sat it back on the bed. She put her pillow in his arms then slid off of the bed as carefully as she could manage and bit back a groan as she stood.

Her damn head was killing her and she was dizzy beyond anything she’d felt before. She waited for it to subside then looked for her clothes. Her bra was on top of the lamp by the bed, thrown carelessly in their hurry. She grabbed it and walked the room, not finding her panties. Where they hell had they gone? Her purse and cardigan was tossed on the table under the window and she walked over to get it. She gasped at what she found underneath it.

A photo and a page of what she thought was parchment or maybe a lightweight cardstock sat there looking so innocent. She never knew how two pieces of paper could mean so much or be able to cause so much pain. She picked up the photo and almost smiled at the drunk, _very_ drunk, happy expressions on their faces. They were grinning from ear to ear and actually looked a little bit in love. It made her want to cry or scream or puke. She put a hand on her stomach in an effort to calm it and barely glanced at the marriage license. She didn’t even want to touch it for fear it would make things more real for her. As if the picture, the rings, and her waking up naked in Tom’s bed wasn’t enough.

Amara shook her head then walked to the door of the room where her shoes had been kicked off and where Tom had taken her dress off of her. His clothes were scattered in a trail from the door to the bed. The twenty-eight year old leaned down and picked her dress up, stepping into it carefully. She tried to zip it and only managed to do it about halfway before giving up and letting her hair fall over the open zipper. She picked up her shoes, stuck the wedding photo in her bodice, gave Tom one last lingering look and then fled his room before he woke up.

She was across the hall and at her door digging through her purse for her keycard when the door swung open. Michelle stood there with a knowing smile, as if she knew anything, and it made Amara paranoid. Thankfully the rings she hadn’t thought to take off were covered by her cardigan.

“Look what the cat dragged in. You look like hell.”

“You are ever so kind.” Even hung over Amara added a southern drawl to her words to make Michelle laugh. It worked and the raven-haired woman stepped back to let her in the room.

“So? You get laid?” Amara frowned at Sarina when she walked into the living room pulling her wheeled suitcase behind her.

“That is none of your business.” And since when was she so prudish?

“She got laid!” Sarina laughed excitedly and Michelle only grinned with a waggle of her eyebrows.

“How was he?”

“None of your business. We're leaving already?"

"Tomorrow is Friday. We have work."

"Already?" She bit her bottom lip, keeping the hand she wore the wedding set on covered by her cardigan where they couldn't see. "But."

"You didn't want to come here and now you don't want to leave?"

"But Tom. I have to talk to him before we leave." She didn't want to talk to him, but if she disappeared without a trace what would he do? It was bad enough that she was too much of a coward to face him first thing in the morning. How would she be able to find him to file an annulment? Tom from London? Yeah, that'd go over well. She should have checked the marriage license more carefully. At least she'd have known his last name. She lay her cardigan and purse over the back of the couch and put her hands behind her back so the girls wouldn’t see her rings.

“Amara? Is everything all right?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I just wanted to tell him goodbye is all.” She bit her bottom lip glancing toward the door. Maybe she should have woken him up.

Michelle looked to her twin wondering if Sarina had realized what had happened to their Amara. Their friend was fast falling for Tom and it would either be one of the most beautiful or heartbreaking things to happen to her. Amara’s last and only relationship had been hell for Amara as soon as it started. She may have been twenty-four when it happened, but inside she’d still been a little girl that was desperate for love. When the beautiful green-eyed boy had turned his gaze her way she’d fallen fast and fallen hard. She had fought against it every step of the way, had meant not to get involved with him at all, but he’d worn her down over the course of a couple months and she’d wound up in his bed.

Two weeks later he’d done the same thing to her roommate and Amara had been brokenhearted, but even more than that she was furious with herself. She had known better than to leave herself open like that. All it had gotten her was hurt deeply and used before being tossed away like garbage. After that she’d been even more against men than she had been to begin with.

Sarina nodded, knowing exactly what her twin had been thinking. Tom could be wonderful for Amara. If she would let him be. Probably she wouldn’t, but if she did, she might realize how wonderful it felt to be loved by someone that wasn’t family.

No one looked at anyone the way he looked at Amara without it being something more than friendship. Sarina recognized the sparkle in his eyes. Amara held the same look in her eyes when she looked at Tom. Sarina and Michelle had both seen it. Whether Amara realized what it was or not Sarina didn’t know, but she was betting not.

A knock on the door to their rooms made Amara jump and press a hand over her heart in an effort to calm it. Unfortunately it was the hand that her wedding set was on. The twins saw and her face fell even more than it had at the knock on the door. "Not a word! Not right now." She hissed shaking her head and dropping her hand.

"Amara? Darling are you still here?"

"Yeah." God was that her voice squeaking like that?

"Can I come in?"

"No!” She sighed at the harsh tone in her voice. She didn’t want to upset him. “I mean yes." Oh, God what was she supposed to do?

Michelle opened the door and Amara bit her bottom lip nervously when Tom, she refused to call him her husband, walked in with a worried smile. He rushed to her and took her hands in his. His thumbs gliding gently over the backs of her hands. "I was afraid you had left already."

"No. Not yet." Amara couldn't help the reassuring yet nervous smile. "Em . . . Soon though. We have work tomorrow."

"Oh, you're going home then."

"I have to."

"What if you didn't?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if you went home with me instead?"

"Tom," Amara sighed heavily as she tried to think of the nicest possible way to tell him off. "I can't." So much for that. "We can't do this. I think it would be best if we just get it annulled and go our separate ways."

"Why?"

"We've barely known each other two days, Thomas. That's not long enough to get married. Hell that's barely long enough to ask for a phone number."

"What if I don't want an annulment? What if I want to stay married?"

"I can't. You know this is crazy. You can't marry someone you've just met. Not and have it work out. People that know each other for years before they get married don't work out. How would two days make a difference?"

"I don't know. You don't know either. It could be the best thing to happen to either of us."

"Or the worst."

"When do you leave?"

"Michelle?"

"Two hours. If you two need to talk, and obviously you do, Sarina and I can pack for you, Amara."

Sarina nodded then sent a look to her twin. They needed to get Amara to talk to him. For obvious reasons, but also because they had seen the way Amara acted with Tom. She was better. She smiled more, she was excited about things, and she still had a smile on her face when he wasn't around. She was love struck. Michelle nodded to her twin and they slipped out of the living room. They would pack Amara's things for her.

Tom watched Amara beginning to pace the room. She twisted the wedding set on her finger as she moved, muttering under her breath. Her sable hair trailed behind her, and her dress swirled around her knees. He wished she'd just sit so he could speak with her. So they could talk and try to get things figured out.

The press, when they got hold of it, if they had not already was going to have a field day with the story. He needed to call Luke and tell him about the wedding so his friend and publicist wouldn't be surprised by reading it somewhere else first. Luke would probably try to kill him for creating a PR nightmare, but Tom would do it again in a heartbeat. He would marry his Amara all over again, no matter what anyone said or did.

Amara slid a glance to the blonde standing in front of the closed door. He watched her every move, as if waiting for her to speak. He probably was, but she didn't know what to say to him. What could she say? What did he want from her? Obviously he wanted to stay married, but what was he thinking? They'd only known each other for two days and barely even that.

She'd never wanted to get married. Certainly not to someone who lived in an entirely different country. She knew relationships were hard enough when you lived in the same town or even in the same apartment or house. How much harder would it be since he lived in London? She shook her head and sat on the couch.

"I don't know what to do, Tom."

“Darling, I really do wish you'd give me a chance." He sighed and walked around the couch to sit on the coffee table in front of her. She shook her head with a weak smile.

"Can't we do things the normal way?"

"I'm afraid not. You're already looking for excuses to be rid of me." She gave him a sheepish smile and he almost laughed. "Please, Amara. We've got a month to annul the wedding. Will you give me at least that much time? Just one month. If you're still certain we can never work at the end of the month we'll get it annulled."

"What if we're still together at the end of the month?"

"You'll come to London with me."

"Tom. There are a lot of details to be worked out. If either of those things happen. Can't we just let it go for today? I can't . . . I can't do this right now." Tears sprang to her eyes and she hated it. Crying was useless and always had been. It never solved anything. She was blaming the slight hangover for it instead of the surge of feeling flowing through her. Something that was as foreign to her as another language. She felt scared, excited, and unbelievably nervous. Most of all though she felt . . . if not love, she'd never say it was love, then something close to it for him. A sense of kinship maybe?

"I rather think we should go over the preliminaries, darling."

"Such as?" If he could speak formally then so could she.

"I know our marriage wasn't planned."

"Well, I planned to never get married. So there you go." Did that sound as petty as she thought it did?

"God laughs at your plans, Amara. It's best to never have them."

"Isn't that the truth." She sighed heavily and met his eyes. She wasn't sure what she saw in them, but she didn't like it. Compassion, earnestness, quiet resolve, and what she thought was the beginnings of her almost maybe love for him. "If I agree to this . . . charade, will you drop all of this for now? I honestly don't want to talk about it just yet. It's too damned confusing and I'd like some time to think about all of this before we set anything in concrete. A few days. And I want the marriage license."

He gave her a look that told her he wasn't going to give up on their relationship, such as it was, and she sighed. "A week, Amara. No longer than that."

"Okay."

"And I'll keep the marriage license with me until the end of our thirty days."

"But . . . You realize that it's essentially blackmail what you're doing? I should be the one to hang onto it." He gave her a devastating grin that almost had her smiling in return.

"I prefer to call it an exceptionally smart insurance policy."

"Uh huh. Well, I call it blackmail."

"Tomato, tomahto."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I need to go help the girls. I need to pack my things."

"I need your telephone number."

"I'd rather not."

"How do you expect me to contact you?"

"I don't. Not really."

"Give me your number, Amara."

"Are you always this commanding?"

"Only when I want something." He gave her another smile and she sighed then pulled her cell out of her skull purse. She handed him the phone letting him dig for her number himself then stood and started to walk out of the room. He grabbed her hand and twined his fingers with hers as he used her mobile one handed. His cell rang and she frowned when he ignored it. Surely he had more important things to do than torture her. "I called myself,” he told her in explanation at her questioning look.

"I need to pack."

Tom sat her mobile next to him on the coffee table then took her other hand. "A week, Amara."

"I know."

He stood, her hand still in his, then put his other hand on her waist and pulled her to him. She gasped and he pressed his lips to hers and she tightened her free hand into a fist to keep from grabbing him and holding him closer. God what he could do to her with just his lips. She nearly moaned when he gently probed the seam of her lips as she remembered just exactly he'd done to her with that sinful mouth of his. Her lips parted of their own accord and she sighed into his mouth when their tongues met, sliding together with a wet eroticism that she had craved and never even known she did. She could still faintly taste herself on his lips, mixed with the sweet cinnamon of his toothpaste. He pulled away from her slowly, leaving her leaning toward him for more and he laughed quietly.

"Tell me you didn't feel anything." He murmured it against her lips and she pulled away from him completely, like she'd been burned, and he laughed again when she almost fell onto the couch.

"There's a long way between love and lust, Tom."

"Not so far as you'd think."

She nodded with a slight frown and he grinned then kissed her cheek. "I'll let you pack now. I'll call you soon, darling."

"Okay." Maybe the best way to get rid of him would be to agree with everything. At least until he made it out of the suite. He gave her another sweet smile then walked to the door. He opened it then turned to her.

"Don't let your fear and stubbornness let you push away something that could make you happy."

"I'm not afraid, Thomas." He only gave her weak smile.

"One week." With that he turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

As soon as the door was shut the twins ran into the living room and sat Amara down with a cup of coffee and bottle of whiskey. She didn't know where they'd gotten it, but she was thankful for it. She poured a shot of whiskey into her coffee and took a small sip.

"Where do I start?"

"I don't think you need to." Michelle murmured.

"Except one thing." Sarina told her. "How the hell did you get married to Loki?"

"Who?"

"Loki. Tom Hiddleston?" When Michelle and Amara stared blankly at her she sighed. She'd forgotten they didn't share her love of comic book movies. "He plays Loki in Thor and The Avengers, and Thor: The Dark World."

"He's in movies?"

"Yuh. Loads of them. Well, not as many as I’d like." She frowned in thought as she tried to think of something that her sister and Amara would have seen him in. Nothing comic book-y she knew. "He's in that Hollow Crown series of movies you like. The Shakespeare ones. He's Henry V."

"No he's not."

"IMDB it if you don't believe me." She pouted at them until Amara picked up her cell.

Amara unlocked her cell and saw his number still on her screen. She deleted it before she was tempted to save it then opened her app for IMDB. "How do you spell his last name?"

"Oh, my God." Sarina giggled hysterically until Michelle reached over and pinched her. "How do you not even know your husband's last name? Your last name."

"Nothing is set in stone, also I had no clue he existed until yesterday pretty much. So shut your face."

"H-i-d-d-l-e-s-t-o-n."

"Okay." Amara typed his name in and raised an eyebrow when she saw his name next to a small picture of him wearing a silver suit. He appeared to be at some movie premiere. He wasn’t smiling but still looked absolutely gorgeous. She tapped the link and scrolled down to a list of his movies and bit her bottom lip. He'd been in a few. Some of them she'd seen, like the Hollow Crown movies. She'd also seen him in Wallander. How did she not recognize him? Probably because he had darker strawberry blonde hair, it was practically ginger, in the Shakespeare movies and it had been years since she'd seen Wallander.

"What's Coriolanus?" Sarina asked.

"A Shakespeare play." Amara and Michelle told her at the same time.

"Is it on video?"

"I don't know. Probably not. It looks like a stage production."

"Cool. Gimme." Sarina took the phone from Amara and started tapping away on the screen. Looking up any information on the play she could find, Amara thought. “It’s not on yet. Maybe we’ll go see it.”

"Hmm. I'm going to go pack. I know you two you were listening to every word Tom and I said."

"We only wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'll be alright." Amara walked to her room and saw her clothes lying on her bed. The rest of her things were piled on the nightstand. How the hell would she be alright? How had her calm, boring, safe, life turned into this? Seven freaking words and her world had gone to hell. Well, a few more than seven. ‘I do’ and ‘'Til death us do part’, had a bit to do with it as well. What had she been thinking?

Yeah, she had been drunk. A bit past drunk if she was being honest. They had left the club to do what Amara didn’t know. She had only known she had to leave before she did something stupid. Then she’d gone and done that something stupid by opening her smartassed mouth when he had starting his mumblings about it being fate all over again. She'd popped off and said they might as well get married and get it over with. She'd just been being a sarcastic smartass, but he'd taken her words and run with them. Tom had taken her hand and dragged her with him until they found a place to buy their wedding rings.

He had gone through half a dozen before he found an engagement and wedding ring set that he liked for her. It was platinum and had an obscene amount of diamonds. The center stone was a quantum cut that Amara had never heard of before, but it sparkled so much more than the others in the jewelry store. The smaller stones were almost a rose cut that she'd forgotten the name of. He'd picked out a plain platinum band for him and had their names and wedding date engraved on the inside of the bands on all of the rings.

Something Amara found impractical now, considering the fact that she was pretty sure she'd just give her rings back to him when the month was over. What would he do with rings that would only remind him of his failed marriage? Would he just sell them to be rid of them? Or would he keep them as a reminder?

After they had gotten their rings with Amara protesting every step of the way they found a place to get their marriage license and then some place to get married. Amara pulled their wedding photo from the bust of her dress and stared down at it. They both looked deliriously happy. Drunk off their asses, but happy all the same.

She knew it wouldn't last. Nothing good ever did. She put the picture inside an outer pocket on her duffle where she hoped it wouldn't get messed up then pulled it back out and grabbed the bible from the drawer of the nightstand. Surely the Gideons or God or whoever put it there wouldn't mind if she kind of stole a bible. She put her wedding photo between the pages of the bible and almost laughed. What better place to put something sacred than a bible?

Amara stared forlornly out the window of the plane at the disappearing Vegas skyline. As stupid as she felt she missed Tom already. Probably it was best not to think about him at all. All it would do was give her a migraine and make her heart ache. She would probably regret thinking it later, but she almost wished she'd never met him. She didn't believe in fate, but surely someone or something had, had some plan since she'd been thrown together with Tom three times in less than a day.

And it had been wonderful. She frowned shaking her head. She needed to get away from him as fast she could and stay away from him. She had the feeling that even though her mind was completely set against staying with him if she let her heart make this decision she would already be running back to hotel and into his arms. Which was the most idiotic thing she could think of so there was no way would she let that happen. Not unless she decided that was what she really wanted. She wouldn’t allow herself to be with him. Flatly refused. All she had to do was wait a week and tell him no.

Amara bit her bottom lip. What if he was right though? What if them getting married and staying that way was the best thing that ever happened to either one of them? How the hell was she supposed to decide in a week what to do with Tom? About Tom. She didn't want to do anything with him. Except maybe take him back to bed. She still felt wonderfully used under all of the stress of the situation.

All she really needed to do was stay the fuck away from him.

Lightning struck and thunder grumbled across the sky. She figured God was laughing at her carefully constructed plan to move on with her life and get Tom to give her the annulment she so desperately wanted. The pilot came over the speaker announcing that they might have a bit of a bumpy ride.

Yeah, she thought with a huff. No, shit.


	11. Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit shorter than the last. My laptop is messed up again. This keyboard isn't cooperating so I'm having to send my laptop off in a few days to see what's up with it. The letters randomly quit working then start back after a bit. I'll update as much as I can until I send it off. (︶︹︺)

It had been six days. Six very long, exhausting days. She still hadn't figured out what to do with Tom. She knew what she wanted. She wanted an annulment and for them to go their separate ways. What she hadn't figured out was how to talk Tom into doing it. She knew he would have good or better reasons for them to stay together than she would have reasons for them to stay apart. She might even believe him and where would that get her?

A broken heart most likely. Something she'd done her best all of her life to prevent. Yeah, she was a little bitchy. She was wary and cautious around men. Why shouldn't she be? Men only used and abused you and Tom had already used her, though she knew damn good and well that he wouldn’t abuse her in any way. At least she thought he wouldn’t. So why did he keep trying to talk to her?

She'd been ignoring his calls, refused to open his emails when he had gotten her email address from Sarina after Sarina had answered Amara's phone becuase the twenty-eight year old refused to. She deleted his voicemails without listening to them. Refused to open the two snail mail letters he'd sent in the mail. One right after the other. Both of them overnighted so she would be sure to get them in the seven days he'd given her to make a decision. The letters lay on her nightstand under the Adipose plushy he'd given her for her birthday. The Tardis necklace was still around her neck. The wedding set was in her silver jewelry box locked away in a tiny hidden drawer in the antique writing desk her mother had bought her for her 18th birthday. Their wedding picture was nestled in-between sheets of acid free paper and sat on top of the jewelry box in the drawer. The key for the jewelry box was on her keychain with the rest of her keys. Never out of her reach.

And if she opened the drawer once a day and looked at the wedding photo and the rings, well, that was her business and no one else’s. She'd never admit it. Not even under pain of death. To anyone. Not Tom and barely to herself. She'd for sure never admit that she hugged the dozen pink long-stemmed roses he had sent her to her and inhaled their sweet fragrance every night before bed. She shuddered at the thought of anyone finding out. It was terrifying.

She jolted like she'd been electrocuted when her cell began to ring and she sighed heavily at the number that flashed on the screen. What made it worse was the fact that Sarina had once again saved the number to her cell and put Tom's name in as Husband. When she didn't answer he called right back and she was almost tempted to swipe across the screen and accept his call. She swiped the small flashing phone to ignore instead and growled when he called back once more. He'd never called that many times at once before. Maybe it was something important. As if their possible future together wasn't. Maybe someone had found out about their marriage. Some gossip magazine or trash paper. Had some tabloid found out about them? She huffed even just thinking about it. Apparently he was famous and had legions of fan girls. Sarina included since she kept trying to talk Amara into keeping him.

Her phone rang again and she finally answered. "He . . ." She cleared her throat and tried again. "Hello?" Her voice squeaked with nerves and she frowned hearing that adorable chuckle of his over the phone. Jesus, did she really think it was adorable? Yes. She could admit that much at least.

"Amara. Thank God you finally answered."

"What's wrong? You sound upset." She didn't even know him well enough to tell his emotions over the phone, but she could always tell when someone was upset by the sound of their voice. No matter how hard they tried to hide it.

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"I suppose I am then."

"What's happened?"

"I need Sarina and Michelle's address."

"For?"

"You've made it clear that what I do isn't your business, Amara. That what you do isn't any of mine. I need their address and they aren't answering their phones."

"It's our day off. They're at the beach and they leave their phones at home."

"You're not at the beach?"

"I don't go to the beach. I haven't been since I was a teenager."

"Why not?"

She didn't even want to think about what had almost happened. She sure as hell didn't want to tell Tom. "Em . . . The sand gets everywhere. I'm a neat freak." She looked at the mess in her room and almost laughed. Her clothes were scattered all over. In piles of clean and dirty. She probably hadn't vacuumed the apartment in a week. There weren't any dirty dishes lying around though. She hated filthy dishes.

Tom laughed and she smiled at the happy sound. "Let me get their address, darling."

Amara rattled it off without checking to see if he had a pen and he recited it back to her perfectly. Either he'd had a pen or he had an excellent memory. Just for her sake she decided he'd had a pen. "Yep." Amara heard muffled speaking in the background and Tom sighed.

"I have to go now, sweetheart. I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay."

"One more day, Amara." He hung up without giving her a chance to speak and she frowned down at her phone.

Was the ticking of the clock louder than usual? Or was she losing her mind? She felt like Captain Hook being chased by the crocodile. The ticking sounded even louder and she growled tangling her hands in her hair. Who was he to make demands on her? To give her a week to decide on whether she should try to stick things out or not. To constantly remind her that her time was running out.

"Fuck it!" She stood from her bed and walked out of the room and to the kitchen. She didn't usually turn to liquor when she had a problem, but this seemed to qualify. This would if nothing else did. She grabbed the bottle of vodka she kept chilling in her freezer and unscrewed the cap as she walked to the cabinet to grab a highball glass. She poured three fingers of Vodka in then cranberry juice and Sprite. She gave it a gentle stir with her finger then licked it off as she screwed the caps back on with her free hand. She left everything out in case she needed another one and took a drink wishing she still smoked. If there was a time and place for a cigarette this was it.

Four large vodka cranberries later she was well on her way to being drunk, having added more vodka and less cranberry juice and sprite each time. The vodka in her glass was barely tinged pink at this point. She had been dwelling on Tom and his daily reminders of how much time she had left, and was quite pissed off about it. She walked somewhat unsteadily to her room and picked up her cell from where she'd left it on the bed. She scrolled through her contacts as she took a drink then hit Tom's number a bit more forcefully than what was required. He answered quietly after the fourth ring and she giggled.

"Tommy? Tommy, I got somethin' to tell you."

"Are you drunk?"

"Possibly. Probably. Now shush."

"Yes, darling." She could hear the laughter in his voice and frowned.

"I'm mad at you."

"For what?" He sounded genuinely shocked and she almost relented. Her drunken brain told her not to though.

"For giving me daily reminders of how much time I've got. You think I dunno how much, how little time I've got left? You're pressuring me and I don' like it. I dunno what to do Tommy."

"I think you should go to bed, love."

"Don't call me that."

"Finish your drink, Amara, and go to bed. I'll call you tomorrow when you're sober."

"I'm scared."

"To sleep?" Was she having nightmares again? Sarina and Michelle had told him about them. He tended to feature in them quite a bit.

"No. Of you."

"You don't have to be afraid, sweetheart. Please don't be afraid."

"I'll try, baby. G'night." Tom smiled at the fact that she called him baby then told her goodnight.

He put his mobile back in his pocket with a heavy sigh. In a few hours whether Amara wanted to see him or not he'd be with her. Hopefully she wouldn't be too upset and try to run him off. He only had three days to convince her to go home with him before he had to go back to London. Coriolanus was starting soon and rehearsals were lasting longer and longer. He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible and with the play looming over his head he knew he might not get a chance if it wasn't now.

He closed his eyes hoping that sleep might shorten the amount of time until he got there to see her. He still hadn't decided if he was going to surprise her at work or wait until she got home to go see her. He thought she might punch him if he showed up at her work. Of course she might do much worse if he just appeared at her flat. Neither option could guarantee that he wouldn't be injured by his lovely Amara, but he was willing to take that chance if only to see her again.

God, did he have it bad for her.


	12. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sending my laptop off tomorrow to be fixed and I don't know how long it's going to take. Hopefully it won't take very long. I'll try to update from another computer if I can. (~_~;)

Amara woke the next morning and had showered and dressed for work before she realized that she hadn't had bad dreams all night like she had the previous few nights. Since her wedding night she thought with a frown. Wedding morning? Either way she'd had nightmares every night until now. She thought it was kind of ominous. Generally you'd think the same dreams night after night would be more so, but this time, probably because this was the seventh day of Tom's Week of Freaking Out, she thought that dreamless was worse.

She locked her apartment behind her and walked the two blocks to Distant Lands. It sounded like a name a travel agency should have had, but was instead a bookstore. She kind of liked the name though. It fit. You could go anywhere you wanted with a book. You could escape your everyday worries inside a good book. Unless those worries were of what to tell your husband when he called you to see what you'd decided. Amara had yet to find a book that would let her escape that particular fate. She didn’t know how she was going to manage to convince him that they were better off alone. That _she_ was better off alone.

She clocked in then looked for Sarina and Michelle to find them at the small coffee stand drinking their iced coffees.

"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Hiddleston gracing us with her presence."

"Huh?" Amara raised her eyebrows wondering why Sarina sounded so huffy.

"You're two hours late. I bet you didn't even look at the clock and your phone's off because you've been avoiding your hubby." Michelle told her with a small smile. Said hubby was at her and Sarina's apartment waiting for their call.

"Oh. And don't call me that. I don't want anyone to know."

"Look, if no one has found out yet, then probably they won't. Not until you and Tom come out about it."

"I don't want to come out about it. I want it to stay a heavily guarded secret. Am I in trouble for being late?"

"No. I told Sam that you haven't been sleeping well. Told her you had boy trouble and she was so excited about it that she said whenever you showed was fine."

"I don't have boy trouble." Amara snapped, moving behind the counter to fix her coffee. She put three shots of espresso in the biggest cup she could find then put four sugars and four creams in it and poured more coffee over the top. "Where is Sam anyway?"

"She had a doctor’s appointment."

"Marcy is supposed to be on the register."

"No one was when I walked in. I'll open number two."

"Okay."

Michelle waited until Amara had gone back to the front of the store then pulled out her cell and sent Tom a text telling him to go to Amara's apartment instead of coming to the store. If he showed up Amara would likely punch him since she was hung-over.

Six hours later Amara walked into her flat nursing one hell of a headache and headed straight for her room, stripping down as she went. She didn't even care anymore. She had kicked her shoes off by the door, drew her blouse off in the hallway, and had her khaki capris off before she even made it to her room. She was in her bra and panties as she walked to her bathroom and was working on undoing the first hook and eye on her bra when a voice that would forever be ingrained in her mind stopped her.

"Before you go any further I think you should know that you're not alone." She jumped with a girlish yelp and the lamp beside her bed flared to life. Tom sat on her bed smiling gently while her heart tried to beat out of her chest.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to visit."

"No, I mean what are you doing in my room?"

"Waiting for you. I cleaned a little bit. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't. I just . . . what do you want?"

"To talk." He said it like it was the most innocent thing in the world and Amara frowned crossing her arms over her breasts when she caught him staring. She was wearing a sheer black pushup bra and the boy cut panties that matched. Technically he'd already seen everything she had to offer, but still. When you were half naked and a strange man was in your room you tried to hide things.

"You could have at least had the decency to like . . . I dunno tell me you were here before I stripped down in front of you."

"I'm sorry." He said it pleasantly, like he meant it, but she was pretty sure he was saying that he was sorry he missed the show. "Take your shower, darling. You look like you feel wretched."

"I do. I drank too much last night and had to work today."

"Go on, love. I'll be here."

"In the living room."

"As you wish." He stood and walked toward her, a predatory gaze in his eyes and she tensed even though he did nothing more threatening than kiss her cheek. "I'll be waiting."

That was what she was afraid of. There was no more putting it off. She would have to talk to him now. She had known she couldn't keep avoiding him forever, especially if she wanted the annulment, but she had hoped for a little more time.

So much for hoping.

Tom smiled after her as she practically ran into her bathroom then laughed when he heard her muttering and the shower start. Well, she hadn't punched him like he thought she might. Thank God for small favors. He walked out of her bedroom, skirting around her trousers in the floor and walked into the living room.

He looked around then walked to the pictures hanging on her wall. Almost all of them were of Amara with Sarina and Michelle. A few older ones featured Amara when she was a child and a smiling man and woman. Her parents probably. The man looked Irish or Scottish with pale skin, blue eyes, and red hair. The woman was dark with long blue-black hair and Amara's dark chocolate eyes. Amara looked young. Probably about ten. After that the pictures were mainly of her and the twins or just her and her mother. None of the newer ones included either of her parents. Had her parents divorced? Had something worse happened?

He frowned slightly then walked to the small bookshelf by the television. It was full of dvds and books, all of them in order. The books were done in alphabetical order by author and the dvds were done by title. She was neat in that aspect at least. The tables needed dusting, which he found amusing after her neat freak comment, the floor needed swept and the rug needed vacuumed. He walked into the kitchen and smiled at the almost empty bottle of vodka and the cranberry juice and Sprite out on the counter. Other than that the kitchen was spotless and he almost laughed. He figured if Amara thought the kitchen was impeccably clean then the rest didn't matter as much.

He dug through her cupboard looking for a glass and laughed at the amount of chocolate stashed through them. A woman after his own heart. He snagged a piece hoping she wouldn't mind, then grabbed a glass and walked to the sink to get some water.

"You found my stash." He nearly jumped then shut the water off and turned to see Amara in nothing but a short silk robe, tied tightly, and drying her hair with a fuchsia colored towel. Her skin was rosy from the hot water of her shower and she grinned when she caught him staring.

"Hmm?"

"The chocolate."

"Oh. Yes. I hope you don't mind."

"No, it's cool. Who can resist chocolate?"

"No one in their right mind."

"Exactly." Amara grinned then walked to the cabinet and grabbed one of the chocolates for herself then walked out of the kitchen.

Tom tried not to stare at her as she walked, her hips swaying as she moved. The silk robe was wet and clinging to all of her curves, as if she hadn’t dried off before putting it on and he bit his bottom lip willing the thoughts that rushed through his mind to go away. He knew what that body could do. Knew what it could do to his. He thought of their wedding night and the languid way they had made love after the first time. The way her body flowed like water under his hands.

"Tommy, you coming?"

_Not yet._ The thought entered his mind immediately and he shook his head feeling shamed. Damn his hormones. He'd thought he'd been over that kind of thing once he got past his teen years. Apparently it didn't always go away. Tom walked into the living room to find Amara curled up on one of the over-stuffed chairs across from her sofa. Her robe barely covered her and he looked away before she caught him staring.

"Why are you here?" She asked when he sat on the couch.

"To talk."

"And?"

"I just want to talk Amara. You haven't given me a chance yet."

"There's nothing to say. We were drunk. Mistakes were made." And she did think it was a mistake. A mistake to marry him. A mistake, albeit a wonderful mistake, to sleep with him after. To wake up beside him the next morning. The only downsides to that waking up were the wedding rings on her finger and the marriage certificate and photo on the nightstand.

"Mistakes?" How could she think it was a mistake? "Amara, I asked you. Over and over I asked you if you were sure. You said yes every time."

"I was drunk. You could ask me to walk up to some strange person I've never met and make out with them and I'd do it if I was drunk." _God that didn't sound right._ "That didn't sound like I mean it, okay." She almost snapped at the shocked look on his face. "I'm just saying that I'm very susceptible to suggestion when I'm drunk."

"And I suggested by asking you."

"Yeah."

"Actually, you were the one that suggested, darling."

"I wouldn't have. No matter how drunk I was, I wouldn't have suggested getting married."

Tom almost grinned, would have if not for the worried look on his lovely wife's face, he had thought she remembered that she had been the one to suggest it. “I told you that I still believed it was fate that we'd run into each other so many times. You said and I quote, ‘If it’s fate we might as well just get married and get it over with.’ So we got married."

"I didn't . . . I wouldn't."

"You did, my darling."

"But . . ." Amara narrowed her eyes at him accusingly. "You let me do it! You took advantage."

"I asked," was all he said in answer to her accusation.

"Tom, that's not fair."

"What isn't fair, sweetheart? Not arguing against it? Not giving you the fight you so desperately want so you can have an excuse to file the annulment?"

"The fact that we were both drunk is reason enough, but yes I want a fight."

"The only fight you'll get from me, Amara, is a fight to avoid the annulment."

"Why?"

"I didn't lie to you when I said it was fate. I still believe it was fate that we ran into each other so much."

"It's called being a klutz."

"Only the first two times. What are the chances of us being at the same club?"

"It was close to the hotel."

"Not very close."

"Damn it." Amara pulled the towel from her hair and tossed it over the arm of the chair next to the one she was in. Her hair fell over her shoulder in thick strands. Appearing darker due to being wet. "You want a drink?" She stood without waiting for him to answer and walked into the kitchen.

Tom watched her leave, knowing that she was very well aware that he had a drink sitting on one of the Shakespeare quotation coasters on her coffee table. He thought it was another of fate’s particularly happy twists that she seemed to enjoy Shakespeare as much as he did. She had several copies of plays and books of Shakespeare's sonnets on her bookshelves. Including one in particular that he'd kill for which was locked in a glass case on the shelves. _Comedies, Histories and Tragedies_. It was a first edition Fourth Folio of Shakespeare’s plays, printed in 1685. It was also the last 17 th century printing. It was rare and very expensive if you managed to find one. It seemed fitting that he should meet the owner of one of those copies. That he would wind up married to her.

He walked into the kitchen when he heard her banging things around and saw her pouring vodka from the bottle that had sat on the counter into a glass of ice. Cranberry juice and Sprite followed next.

"Do you always turn to alcohol when you're upset?" He leaned against the doorjamb as he spoke and she tensed as if preparing to defend herself.

"No. It's firmly against my rules." She disproved that by taking a sip of her drink then adding more vodka. "I seem to be breaking lots of my rules with you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I've never broken my rules before." She turned to him with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair to push it back from her face. She frowned when her fingers got caught on a tangle. He gave her a gentle smile. "Not turning to alcohol when I have a problem is probably my most important rule and I broke it. Twice now in fact."

"Why is it against your rules?"

"Alcohol is a crutch. Some people use religion, some people have hobbies that they dive into, and some people like my father use alcohol."

"Your father is an alcoholic?"

"Was. He's . . . drinking in Heaven or where ever it is that alcoholics go when they die."

"I'm sorry, darling. I didn't know."

His wife gave him a weak smile and shrugged one shoulder. "There's lots you don't know."

"I would, if we stayed together."

"Oh, Jesus." She took another sip of her drink then sighed. "Look, you're sweet as hell and you're pretty. So very pretty and if I was . . . normal then yeah we'd see what happened. I'm not normal, Tom. I have issues. Lots of issues and I don't think it would be fair to you, either of us really, if we went into this with you not knowing what to expect." Where the hell had that come from? She was trying to tell him off and suddenly she’d wanted him to know what to expect? Her heart was trying to get her fucked over by completely bypassing her brain.

"Tell me, then." He walked to her, cornering her against the cabinet and took her drink from her. He took a sip watching her eyes as he swallowed and smiled into the glass.

"Em . . . I have commitment issues."

"I figured that one out on my own."

"My father was an abusive prick. He and my mother had a messy marriage and an even messier divorce. Half of their problems were my mother being Cherokee and my father being Irish. Cherokee people are very passionate and Irish people are as well, especially when they're drunk. If you put the two of them together when there's liquor involved it gets messy."

"Were you? Did he? Did they?" He wouldn't know what to do or think if his Amara had been abused as a child. He prayed she hadn't been.

"No. My mother got the brunt of it. She kept him away from me and honestly I can't remember a time that I was afraid that he'd hit me or hurt me in any way. I was ten when they got divorced. I decided, after the whole mess was over, that I never wanted to go through what my mother went through with him. After he moved back to Ireland I didn't see him again until I was 18."

"That is a big decision to make for a ten year old, Amara. For anyone, no matter how old they are."

"I meant it though and I followed through with it. Until a few yea . . ." Amara snapped her mouth shut so quickly that he heard her teeth clack together. She took the drink back from him and took a healthy swig of it. "Anyway I went to see him when I was eighteen. He didn't recognize me. Didn't even know who I was. I thought, maybe just maybe, he had missed me as much as I had missed him. I was wrong and found that out the hard way. He was so drunk. You could smell the booze wafting from his house when he opened the door. I knew after that, that he hadn't cared about me or my mother. We were a mistake."

"The mistake was his, Amara." Tom told her angrily. He hated that people used drinking as an excuse to do anything they wanted. To abuse the people they were supposed to protect and cherish more than anything else in the world. "His mistake was to turn to alcohol instead of facing his problems. He turned to it when he should have turned to you and your mother. He should have loved you and protected you above all else. He made the mistake of not doing that."

Amara only blinked at him and he wondered if she had never realized that. Surely she had at some point. Shouldn't she have? Maybe not when she had been so young when it had happened. "You've never thought of it that way before," he murmured.

"No, I haven't."

"You should never think that anything like that was your fault. That you were a mistake. He was a fool for not seeing what he lost. _I_ would be a fool if I let myself lose you."

"You don't know me," was all she could think of to say. How many more revelations would she go through if she gave him a chance? How many broken things about her could he fix? Could she let him? Even if she wanted to give him the chance would she actually be able to let him do it? Would she be able to let him see the darkest pieces of herself? Would she be too afraid that he would turn his back on her the way Ville had?

"I'm asking for the chance to get to know you, darling. Come back to London with me. Three weeks is all I ask."

Amara shook her head, her wet hair slapping against her shoulders. "I have to work."

"Don't you get time off?"

"I get a one week vacation."

"A week isn't long enough." He was being greedy. He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. A week wasn't nearly long enough.

"If I agree to go to London with you, I can't promise more than a week.”


	13. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got my laptop back today. Yay! for super fast computer repair peoples.
> 
> On another note I just want to say wow and thank you for all of the hits, kudos, and bookmarks. I guess I'm doing something right. 
> 
> ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

"Sam, I have an issue."

"You have a lot of issues, Amara, but I forgive you for them." Sam grinned and Amara gave her a droll look.

"Here's the thing." Amara leaned toward her, whispering conspiratorially. "You see that guy over here? The strawberry blonde?"

"The one with the perfect ass?" Amara looked over her shoulder and saw Tom with his back to them scanning one of the shelves of books. His hands were clasped behind his back, as if he were afraid to touch any of the volumes. Or maybe he was trying to keep his hands off of them to keep from buying them. He was wearing a pair of skintight jeans that perfectly showed off his assets and Amara bit her bottom lip.

"Yes, that one." She turned back to Sam to see the older woman still staring at Tom's backside. "Hey, eyes forward, lady." Sam laughed and Amara frowned. Was she jealous because Sam was checking him out? The thought was horrifying. "Anyway, he's kind of my . . ." She didn't want to tell Sam that Tom was her husband. "We're sort of together and he wants me to go to London with him. For three weeks. And I kind of told him that I only had a week vacation saved up and that it wasn't possible . . ."

"Three weeks is fine." Sam told her with a happy smile. "Take longer if you need to."

" . . . for me to take that long off of work. So I understand if I can't. What?" Sam nodded.

"Three weeks is fine. Longer if it’s necessary."

"Why?"

"Because that gorgeous man over there is head over heels in love with you. He hasn't stopped staring at you since he walked in."

"He hasn't even looked at me." Amara looked back over her shoulder and saw Tom strolling down another aisle of bookshelves. "What are you going on about?"

"When you're not looking at him, Amara, he's watching you. Three women have flirted with him since he walked in and he hasn't even noticed. He's only got eyes for you and if you don't do something about it I will personally fire you and see to it that you'll never work in another bookstore again."

"You can't do that. I mean you can fire me, but you can't keep me from working in a bookstore. It's not possible."

"I have my ways."

"You're full of shit, Sam. You're supposed to tell me that I can't go."

"Yeah, well, I'm the boss. I make up the rules. Besides, you didn't get to have a honeymoon."

"What?" Amara almost screamed it and got shushed by an elderly woman. She heard Tom chuckling from somewhere in the store and groaned. "I'll kill them," she muttered under her breath. Sam heard her anyway and laughed.

"The girls just wanted to let me know what was going on."

"Nothing is going on!"

"Listen, Amara I'm trying to help you out here."

"I don't need help. Unless you can convince him to give me a fucking annulment!" Amara hissed it quietly, hoping that Tom wouldn't hear her from wherever he was at in the store. "I just want it done and over with."

"Come here!" Sam reached over the counter and grabbed Amara's arm and dragged her into the office. "Listen, Am, I know you've got issues and the girls have told me a fair bit of what's happened." Sam started as soon as the door was closed and pushed Amara down into a chair.

"The only thing that happened is my two best friends in the whole fucking world dragged my ass to Vegas and let me get drunk and marry a man I'd only known for a day."

"That's not exactly fair is it?" Sam asked as she sat on the corner of her desk.

"No, it's not."

"I mean you blaming them for it. You're a grown woman Amara, even if you don't act like it all the time."

"What's the point of being grown up if you can't act childish sometimes?" Sam blinked down at her.

"Did you just quote Doctor Who at me?"

"Kind of. Just let it go Sam, okay? Please don't make me do this."

"No one can make you do anything, but you need to go figure shit out and if going to London for a few weeks is how to get shit figured out then do it."

"I've got shit figured out, I just have to convince Tom to go along with it." Amara was pouting, she knew she was, but damn it! She was entitled since her whole world was falling apart and she could only stand there and watch it. Well, she supposed she could actually do something. Like be a bitch to Tom until he gave in, but that would be petty and hurt him and as she'd realized before she didn't want to hurt him unnecessarily. She thought that if it were anyone else but Tom she'd have already chewed him up and spit him out and gotten her way. She couldn't do that with him so she would have to be gentle, as much as the thought pained her. She wasn't sure she could do gentle. Besides, if she threw a fit at him and tried to get him to fight he would only stand there and wait her out and then be that much more into them staying together.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he could be good for you if you let him?"

"Yes, of course I have! Damn it, Sam. I've spent the last week thinking it over. Running different scenarios. All but one of them wind up with me being broken. I can't handle that again. I just can't."

"Listen, Amara. Whatever you decide to do will not be the end of the world. If you fall in love with him, yeah it'll hurt a little bit. Because you're you. It doesn't have to hurt. You'll put yourself in more pain trying to fight it than you will if you just accept it."

"I'm not going to fall in love with him. I can't. I can't let him break me."

"You don't know that he will."

"And you don't know that he won't, Sam!" Amara slumped further into the chair and crossed her arms defensively. "I can't take that chance. I won't."

"Look, take some time. Go to London with him. Hell . . . pretend it's a vacation with a friend if you have to, but go. I don't want to see you here for three weeks. I'll know if you don't go."

"I'm gonna go. It'll get him out of my hair faster."

"Amara, please be careful."

"I'm always careful."

"I mean with him. If you had seen the look his eyes that I did, you'd want to be careful."

"With him? Be careful with him? You know what? I don't need vacation time. I quit. I fucking quit." Amara threw her hands up in defeat as she stood then walked out of the office and away from Sam who only laughed.

"See you in a few weeks."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Amara grumbled it as she stomped away to find her wayward husband.

Sarina and Michelle rushed into Sam's office when Amara walked off looking dejected. Was she sad because Sam told her no? Or was she looking pitiful because Sam had said she could?

"Did you let her go?" Sarina asked.

"Yeah. I told her to take all the time they needed." Sam shrugged. "Amara looked like she didn't want to go, but from what you two have said I think she needs to. She was hinting for me not to let her. Well, practically telling me not to let her go."

"She's scared of him." Michelle murmured. "Maybe more scared of herself and letting go."

Sarina and Sam nodded. They all knew Amara needed to take this chance. Whether the twenty-eight year old admitted it or not, she had been stuck in a rut her entire life. Sarina and Michelle had done what they could to help her, but nothing was going to change if Amara didn't want it to. They knew she was content to live on her own with her own skewed set of rules she kept permanently locked in place, but even still they could see how much she was hurting. Even after her rough childhood and her even rougher relationship with Ville, Amara was still that insecure little girl that was desperate for love. She was just too afraid to let herself find it.

"Tommy?"

She heard him murmuring as she walked down the aisle then turned the corner to see him speaking to two teenagers that had their hands full of comics. She smiled gently as she watched him interact with them then frowned when one of them pulled an ink pen out of his pocket and asked Tom to sign a comic that he was 'totally going to pay for in a few minutes'. The twenty-eight year old stood on tiptoe to see what comic it was and rolled her eyes. Figured. The boy was holding a copy of the new Loki comic. Of course you had to get Loki to sign a Loki comic. The teens thanked Tom profusely and Amara smiled when he thanked them and said that it was wonderful to meet them. That he was honored they loved his Loki so much. He seemed so pleased that he could make them so happy with just a few words and his name written on a piece of paper. The smile that lit his face had a crack forming in the walls Amara had built around herself. She shuddered with a heavy sigh then took a deep breath in and steadied herself. Time to put a mask on. The boys walked away, talking excitedly, and Amara stepped out from behind her corner.

"Tom?"

"Are you finished already, darling?" He took her hand and she fought not to pull away when the boys turned back to look at her and Tom.

"Em . . . yeah. Sam said three weeks was fine. Longer if we needed it. She seems to like you for some reason." Amara said it with a half-assed grin, hoping it wouldn't hurt his feelings and he laughed.

"That's perfect, sweetheart."

"You're an ass." He laughed again and Amara rolled her eyes then tightened her hand in his and led him through the store. "Come on, baby."

Tom smiled as he wondered if she even realized she had called him baby. It wasn't the first time, but she had been drunk when she'd done it before. Probably she never noticed. Just like she hadn't noticed that he had been watching her from the moment he walked into the bookstore. He had only been planning on walking her home after her shift was over but instead found himself enthralled by the books and layout of the store. It was brilliant and he knew instinctively that Amara had helped with the design. It reminded him of her flat. All those angles and straight lines separated by subtle curves and shelf after shelf of books.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard his wife cursing and muttering under her breath. He looked around to see Michelle, Sarina, Marcy, and Sam in lines on either side of the door to the shop. He laughed when they threw bookmarks and coffee beans up in the air in lieu of rice and Amara only shook her head, dragging him through the small crowd even faster. Once they were out of the store Amara pulled her hand from his, flipping the four women off over her shoulder as they walked.

"Happy honeymoon!" They yelled it in unison and Amara growled.

"Shut up!"

Tom laughed taking her hand back and kissed her knuckles. She gave him a gentle smile then bumped her head against his shoulder. "Darling?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"What?" Amara pulled her husband to a stop and he stared down at her, a look of worry marring his perfect face. "What do you mean?"

"Are you ashamed of me?"

 _Yes._ "No, Tommy. How could I be?"

"It's just . . . whenever someone mentions us being married you freak out."

"It's my own insecurities and has nothing to do with you." She rolled her eyes when he frowned at her. "I mean, that it's just . . . They know I never planned on getting married. The twins I mean and I feel awkward about the whole thing. Especially because of you."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're . . . you."

"Who else would I be?"

"You're purposefully being a pain in the ass. It doesn't suit you, Thomas."

"You're purposefully being dodgy. It doesn't suit you."

Amara sighed. How the hell was she supposed to do this? How the hell was she going to be nice to him all the time? Well, she didn't have to be all the time did she? She hoped not. She just wanted the annulment out of the way and if being nice to him was how she got it then that was what she would do. Even if it included a little lie or two.

"I'm not ashamed of you. I'm ashamed of me."

"How do you mean?"

Amara only shook her head and started walking, pulling him along behind her. "I'm treating you like a disease. Like a growth that I want nothing more than to be rid of. It's not fair to you. It's not fair to either of us really. You're a human being, one of the most kind and gentle I've ever known or had the amazing luck to meet. I'm sorry for it. I should be grateful that you came into my life, no matter the circumstances."

"Sweetheart," he sighed as he pulled her to a stop and put both hands on her shoulders.

"I have been, Tom. Everything has changed so much in so little time. I'm trying to get used to not being on my own anymore. I wish it were easier. I wish I could throw caution to the wind and pretend that my past didn't happen. I know what it's like to lose yourself in someone. It's frightening and it's wonderful, but most of all it is painful. I don't want that again."

"It doesn't have to hurt, darling. Not like you mean. Life hurts, not just love. If we didn't have pain we would not realize how beautiful the world is. Would you notice the stars if the world was full of light? Would you know what happiness is without sorrow? Would you know what love is if you had never lost anyone? The bad things are what make us appreciate the good, baby."

"Are you always so philosophical? So optimistic?"

"Just some of my many flaws, sweetheart."

Amara nodded then stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. "I'm not sure how we're going to work things out. I don't know if we can. If I'll ever be able to let go of everything or work through everything. I've never tried. I've never wanted to. Never had a reason to, honestly."

"And do you now?" He asked quietly, tugging her hand to hold her still when she tried to walk away.

Amara sighed, she didn't want to hurt his feelings so was tempted to lie to him and say yes, but if she couldn't be honest with him in some aspects, if not all, they would definitely never work out. Not that she wanted them to. Hell, she needed to stop listening to her heart and listen to her brain if she wanted out of this. "I don't know. I really don't, but I'm almost hoping we can."

He looked surprised as if expected anything but her reluctantly admitted hope. "There is some optimism buried deep down in there. Isn't there?"

"Don't let it go to your head and don't get used to it." Amara kissed him again before he could say anything else then pulled away from him and started walking toward her apartment. It looked like she had some packing to do. If only to go to London with him and get the annulment over with as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments, kudos, etc. are very much loved and appreciated.


	14. Talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit filler, a little bit progression, and just a smidgen dialogue heavy.

“Darling?” Amara tensed when Tom sat on the arm of her chair and he sighed heavily. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She slid her eyes to him from the book she’d been reading and stuck her finger between the pages as she closed the book. He might not purposely try to hurt her, but she knew he would in the long run. Which is why she should have refused to even speak to him and filed the annulment papers on her own.

“What is it, Tom?”

“Your couch is miserable.”

“Yes it is.” She turned back to the book as she opened it to her page and Tom sighed again.

“Why do you have it?”

“I like it. It’s pretty.” She looked to the modern black leather couch with its thinly padded squared armrests, thin cushions, and chrome accents. It didn’t at all match the overstuffed chairs she preferred to sit in, but she kept it anyway.

“You never sit on it.”

“Nope. I make people who annoy me sit on it. So shoo.” She waved him away and he sighed again.

“Am I truly annoying?”

“I find anyone that interrupts me while I’m reading annoying. It’s nothing to do with you personally.”

“Are we not going to talk about this?”

“About what?”

“London.”

“Nope. I’ve already been given three weeks’ vacation, more time if we need it, which I hope we won’t because I do have bills that need paid and in order to pay them I have to work. Or sell my book. Which I absolutely refuse to do.”

“How did you come by it?”

“How do you know I was talking about my Shakespeare book?”

“It’s the one worth the most money in your collection. Though there are a few others that are close.”

“It belonged to my grandfather. He collected old books and knew I loved Shakespeare so he left it to me in his will, along with a few others.” She turned back to her book hoping to end the conversation before he could ask her more about her family.

“Amarantha.”

“Thomas.”

“Will you please talk to me?”

“I believe I was talking to you.”

“Sweetheart, please.”

“I’m being difficult.” She pulled the attached ribbon bookmark between the pages of her book then sat it in the chair next to her. The one Tom should have been sitting in instead of sitting on the arm of her chair. “I know. I just . . . I don’t even know how to explain it to you, Tom. Not without . . .” _hurting your feelings._ Something she didn’t want to do for reasons she couldn’t explain to herself much less to him.

“I know you’re afraid, Amara. You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Yes, you are. You told me as much yourself.”

“When?”

“When you called me. You were absolutely pissed and called me to snip at me about reminding you how much time you did or didn’t have. I know going to London with me is a big step.”

“It is. Particularly because I just want a few days to myself without interruptions. Like phone calls, emails, voicemails, and letters.”

“All of which went unanswered except for when I asked for the twin’s address.”

“Had I known you were conning me and were actually on your way to Michelle and Sarina’s apartment I wouldn’t have given it to you.”

“You agreed to the week, Amara. You’ve agreed to going to London to try things out.”

“I know that Thomas.”

“Yet you have refused to even attempt it.”

“I know. I know.” Amara slumped forward in her chair and tangled her fingers in her hair in frustration. She didn’t know what the fuck she had been thinking even agreeing to go with him. To try and work things out. Except maybe it was because he looked so earnest. Because he really looked like he wanted to stick things out. _Because he looked like he actually gave a damn._ She growled trying to silence that little voice in her head that had gotten her into this situation in the first place. “I need time. I can’t just jump into this.” The week she had gotten from him wasn’t nearly enough time. She still had no idea how to get him to give her the annulment.

Tom watched as Amara stood abruptly, almost knocking him from the arm of the chair, and began to pace. He didn’t know what internal dialogue she had going on in that peculiar mind of hers but whatever it was didn’t look like it boded well for him. 

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Amara walked out of the room without another word or glance back at him and he sighed heavily. Resigned to sleeping on that horrid couch again. “Are you coming, Tommy?”

“Em . . . What?”

“Are you coming to bed?” Amara walked back into the living room with a sheepish grin. “You said the couch was uncomfortable. If you stick to your side you can sleep on the bed tonight. And I kind of feel bad for making you sleep on it last night anyway. I know how miserable it is. I was just . . .”

“Punishing me for surprising you.”

“A bit, yeah. I’m sorry.”

With that she turned and walked into her bedroom trying to calm her heart. She didn’t know if it was nerves or Tom’s presence in general, but she thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest. She grabbed her pajamas then ran into her bathroom and locked the door when she heard Tom walking into the bedroom. She changed into her oversized t-shirt and a pair of baggy shorts then brushed her teeth as quickly as possible when she heard Tom murmuring something about the roses he had sent. Shit! Now he knew she’d kept them. There was no telling what he would think now. At least she’d never have to let him know that she hugged them to her and inhaled their sweet fragrance every night before bed. She’d rather die first.

“Amara?”

“Be out in a moment.”

“Take your time, darling.”

“I’m good.” She took a deep breath to steady herself then sighed and walked out of the bathroom letting her hair hang in front of her face so Tom wouldn’t see how embarrassed she was.

“You kept the roses and my letters.” Amara nodded shyly and glanced up to see Tom sitting on her bed holding the letters in his hands. “You didn’t read them. Not even the card on the roses.” Amara shook her head then sat next to him on the bed, pulling her knees up to hug them against her chest. “If you didn’t want anything to do with me why did you keep it all?” When she shrugged he sat the letters back on the nightstand and turned toward her. “Will you tell me? Please.” He reached for her and she flinched when he skimmed his fingers over her hair then tucked it behind her ears so he could see her face. “Look at me.”

Amara shook her head, closing her eyes and rested her forehead against her knees. “I’m tired.”

“Amarantha.”

She finally lifted her head, knowing that when he used her full name she was irritating him. Much the same as when she used his full name when he was irritating her. “Thomas. I don’t know how to do this.”

“How to do what?”

“Talk.”

“To me?” She nodded and he sighed then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his side.

“You didn’t have a problem before. When we went out for coffee.”

“It’s different now. Then you were just some pretty guy I’d crashed into twice. I knew I’d never see you again, so it didn’t matter.”

 _She thinks I’m pretty?_ The thought made him bite back a grin. He didn’t think anyone had ever told him he was pretty before. Handsome maybe, but not pretty. “And now?”

“There’s fee . . . Things involved. We’ve slept together. I don’t do that.”

“You don’t sleep with men?”

“With anyone. Not since . . . it doesn’t matter.”

“You had a relationship before. Even after you told yourself you wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s . .  . I was stupid. I won’t be stupid again. Can I sleep now?”

Tom nodded and turned her loose. He knew if he kept pushing she would push right back until they lost each other. But God how he wanted to push. He wanted to sit and pick her brain. To learn everything about her that he could. To learn what made her tick. Even if that tick was somewhat awkward and jumpy. He wanted to learn what made her smile and laugh. What made her cry, so he could try and prevent it. He wanted to find out what made her angry so he could see how beautiful she was when she was mad. He wanted to learn what made her pulse jump and her heart race.

Amara scooted across the bed and laid down, putting her back to him. “Jammies.” She murmured, snuggling close to her pillow.

“I don’t sleep naked, darling. Well, not often at least.” She tensed and he chuckled quietly making her reach around and slap at him.

“Ass.”

He laughed again then stood and picked up his small overnight bag that held his pajamas and toiletries. Amara stared at the wall as she listened to him walk into her bathroom. Only when she heard the door close after him did she sigh with relief. She thought she was going to have a heart attack. She’d never been so nervous before in her life. Except maybe with Ville when they had first started dating and later when she fell into bed with him

For the second time her in life she was going to sleep in the same bed as a man. One that wanted her. One that was determined to keep her whether she wanted him to or not. Did it mean something that it was the same man both times? That Tom was the one sharing her bed?

Something that Ville had never done. She should have known something was amiss when Ville had left soon after he had taken something from her she would never get back. Obviously Tom wasn’t going to do that or he would have given her the annulment right after realizing they’d done something incredibly stupid.

The bathroom door opened and she tensed again when she heard his whisper quiet steps. “You kept the Adipose, too.”

“Of course I did.” She huffed. “I told you I loved it.”

He climbed into the bed with a quiet sigh and pulled the thin comforter over them. “Why did you keep the roses?”

“They’re beautiful.” She sighed not wanting to admit to him that no one had sent her roses before and certainly not a bouquet as beautiful as the one had sent. “No one’s ever sent me roses before. Thank you, by the way.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, darling.” He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on her shoulder, smiling softly when she tensed even further then rolled over putting his back to her.

“Goodnight, Thomas.”

Somehow, Amara knew, she wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments, kudos, etc. are very much loved and appreciated.


	15. Always Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another of the longer updates I had promised. It's like thirteen pages or so. Something close to that anyway. This one's got progress, dialogue, a small amount of fluff, and a tiny bit of physical contact. The good kind. (･ｪ-)

Amara partially woke to find that her pillow was warmer than usual and had a heartbeat. If she hadn’t been so exhausted she would have realized sooner that she’d somehow wrapped herself around the lanky Brit that shared her bed. She squeezed her pillow tightly for a moment as she sighed and snuggled closer. She was asleep again before long arms tightened around her.

Tom smiled as he stared at the ceiling. His darling Amara, who tried her hardest not to get close to him when they were awake, was wrapped around him as tightly as possible in her sleep. As close as she could possibly get while they were still clothed. He had woken when she turned to him, muttering her in sleep about needing time. If he wouldn’t have felt guilty about it he would have asked her for answers. For the truth about certain things. He knew it wasn’t fair to ask her in her sleep though. Not when she wasn’t willingly giving him the answers he needed.

She had snuggled closer to him in her sleep and he had bitten back a laugh when she unerringly found him and rested her head on his chest over his heart. Her arms wrapping around him. She tangled her legs with his and he had grinned. For not wanting to be near him she was being rather cuddly. He wrapped his arms around her loosely, wiggling a bit to get more comfortable and she groaned tightening her arms around him. When he stopped moving she sighed, snuggling against him again.

He lifted one hand and combed his fingers through her tangled hair as he closed his eyes. Holding her much the same way as he had the night they had gotten married. Already they had been married a week, well nine days now. He thanked God that no one seemed to have found out about it yet.  He was sure they would sooner or later and he thought he should prepare her for it, but he wasn’t quite sure how. He didn’t know how people would react. His family, management, and Luke weren’t thrilled, he knew that much. They had all begged him to get the annulment. His fans on the other hand . . . He worried what his fans would think of him. What things they would say about Amara. It was probably best not to know what his fans would say or do. All they would know is that he had gotten married. No one would know that he had married a woman he’d only known for a day. The only people that did know how the marriage had truly happened were people that he trusted implicitly.

He supposed that he wouldn’t know what would happen where everyone else was involved. Honestly it shouldn’t matter anyway. The only thing that should and did matter was he and Amara. He sighed again, tightening his arms around her and willed himself to sleep.

Amara woke and frowned as she wondered why. Had there been some noise? Some movement in the apartment? She wasn’t ready to face the day yet. No matter what time it was. She froze hearing a quiet murmur and hands slid down her back to her hips. She opened her eyes and realized that she and Tom were wrapped around each other, their limbs twisted together like pretzels. Her head was resting on his naked chest and if she hadn’t known she didn’t drink the night before she would have been worried that they had slept together again. Not that she was necessarily opposed to the idea, but well . . . she wasn’t ready for that again. Didn’t know if she ever would be. Of course if there were no feelings involved on her part and they had slept together before, it shouldn’t be a big deal. Right? _Right_. She was so full of shit if her eyes weren’t already brown they soon would be.

Tom murmured again though she couldn’t make out what he said and he turned into her. She gasped when she felt his erection against her thigh and pulled away from him so abruptly that she fell off of her side of the bed with a yelp and a crash as she knocked over the bedside table sending her alarm clock and glass bowl of junk and change shattering to the floor around her.

She groaned as she lay on the floor in the middle of the disaster and would have giggled if not for the absurdity of what had happened. She might giggle anyway she decided when Tom startled awake and leaned over the edge of the bed with a worried expression marring his features.

“I woke you up.” She murmured quietly.

“The crashing and glass shattering did, yes. Are you alright, darling? Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.” Tom looked her over, not wanting to move her while she was surrounded by shattered glass. She giggled reaching up to swipe at the drop of blood on her cheek, only noticing the sting of the cut when Tom pointed it out to her.

“I’ll live. My empty-my-pockets bowl broke though.” She pouted about the Fenton bowl. Shards of pink carnival glass surrounded her and she winced as she sat up.

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine, baby.” She giggled again as she stood and brushed the glass from her. “I’m sorry. I laugh when bad things happen. It’s not funny. Well, it kind of is, but not really. Well, the circumstances are anyway, not the end result.”

“Whatever did you do?”

“Em . . . I woke up and we were all snuggly and cuddled and then your hands were on my hips and you were um . . . quite happy to be there. I panicked and fell off the bed.” Tom only blinked at her and she would have laughed if not for the adorable blush that stained his cheeks. God did she really think it was adorable? Yes, yes she did. God help her.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’ok.”

“Let me look at you.” Tom reached up putting his hands on her shoulders as he moved to his knees on the bed and she let herself be twisted and turned as he checked her for other wounds. The concern on his face frankly astounded her. “You’ve a nick on your shoulder, as well.” Satisfied that she wasn’t bleeding anywhere else he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

She nodded, her hands curling into fists at her sides to keep from hugging him back. “I’m fine, baby.” He pulled away after a second and brushed his lips over the small cut on her cheek. She gasped quietly and he dropped is head to kiss the cut on her shoulder as well. She reached up, putting her hands on his shoulders and he lifted is head. Who knew that his obvious concern for her would wind up putting another crack in her walls? Amara gasped again seeing the small drops of blood on his lips and nearly moaned when he licked them away.

“Tommy?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m gonna . . .” She trailed off then pressed her lips to his, making him jolt in shock. He hadn’t expected it. He tightened his arms around her as her tongue swept into his mouth, chasing the slight coppery taste of her blood. She groaned and he pulled her with him as he lay back onto the bed. She wound straddling him and sighed against his lips as his hands tangled in her hair. He shifted under her, gently sucking on the tip of her tongue, and she held back a quiet moan and pulled just far enough away to take a shuddering breath. He nipped her bottom lip, then soothed the sharp bite with his tongue.

“Amara.” He sighed her name against her lips and then a ghost of breath over her skin made her shiver as he placed his lips on her neck. His tongue followed the trail he kissed along her jugular and she shuddered when he bit down gently and slid his hands down her sides to her hips, skimming his thumbs over the sides of her breasts as he moved. He rolled his hips, pressing even tighter against her where she straddled him and she moaned. He slid his hands up her back, pushing her t-shirt up with them and she shook her head.

“I can’t do this.” She pulled away from him abruptly, almost falling off of the bed again and moved to stand on the other side of the room. “I . . . I’m sorry.”

She turned and ran into the bathroom leaving him lying on the bed with his hands resting on his chest. “Shit!” Amara berated herself as she stared in the mirror. “Fucking idiot. You can’t do shit like that. You can’t afford to.”  But God how she wanted to. She wanted to go back into the bedroom and crawl all over him like she’d been doing. She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to do it.

The concern in his eyes? The tiny drops of her blood on his lips? The way his hands felt on her? The way they seemed to burn right through her t-shirt? How well matched for each other their bodies seemed to be? The way his hips felt between her thighs? She shuddered and met her own eyes in the mirror, noticing the way her pupils were blown wide and her lips were swollen. Either way it was something that couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it. She sighed then opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the alcohol to clean the tiny cuts.

Tom sighed heavily as he lay on the bed. His heart was racing, he could hear it in his ears, and his breaths shuddered. He didn’t know what had brought on Amara’s moment of possessiveness but he liked it. What he didn’t like was the panic in her eyes and voice when she realized what she was doing. He sighed again as he waited for things to calm down and scrubbed his hands over his face. At least she couldn’t blame him for pressuring her this time. She’d done it herself. Did that sound as petty as he thought it did? Maybe just a bit.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Will you make some coffee please?”

“Yep.” He rolled off of the bed with a lingering look toward the bathroom door then sighed and walked out of the bedroom.

Amara took a quick shower once she was sure he was out of the bedroom and toweled off and slipped into her robe. It hadn’t bothered her the other day because she’d been tired and hung over after work, but now she was wishing she had a long fluffy bathrobe instead of the short magenta silk that hid very little. She rushed to her walk-in closet and dressed as quickly as possible. Tom walked back into the bedroom carrying a cup of coffee and the broom and dust pan just as she was walking out of her closet. She smiled thankfully as she took the coffee from him and took a sip then sat the mug on her nightstand.

“Your coffee is so much better than mine.” He grinned as she took the broom from him and walked around the side of her bed to begin sweeping up the glass. When she was finished she dumped the glass into the wastebasket beside her nightstand then sat on the bed next to Tom and reached across him to pick up her coffee. “You remember how I like my coffee.”

“More cream and sugar than coffee.” He smiled then took a sip of his own.

“And yours is mostly black.” He nodded as he took another sip.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

 _Should have known that was coming._ Amara frowned into her coffee mug. “Not particularly.”

“Don’t you think we should?”

“No. Nothing happened.” _Nothing could happen._

“Nothing? You call that nothing?” Amara flinched when he moved and he only sighed and sat his coffee on the nightstand. “Why do you flinch when I move? When I reach for you?”

“I don’t like to be touched.”

“By me? Or just anyone?”

“Anyone, but mostly you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She didn’t want to give him any ammunition against her and he would use it. She didn’t doubt that at all. He was intent on making her life a living hell whether he realized exactly what he was doing or not. She didn’t want to tell him the reason she didn’t want him touching her was because when he did she couldn’t help the surge of emotion and hormones that flowed through her. That made her want to take him to her bed.

She knew that he would only touch her more. Try to break down her walls by holding her, touching her every opportunity he got. Which he did try to touch her all the time anyway. Little touches. His hand brushing over her hair, against her arm, her hand, her knee. His fingers tangling with hers or circling around her wrist to keep her with him when she tried to run away.

“I’m trying to understand, darling. I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me. We went over this last night.”

“I know.”

“I realize it’s a trust issue. Some of it at least, but we can’t learn to trust each other if we don’t talk.”

“We weren’t talking just now were we?”

“No. We weren’t. We were doing something wonderful.”

“I’m not ready, Thomas. Not for that.”

“It felt like you were ready.” He muttered it, sounding like he was pouting and Amara couldn’t help but laugh.

“Let’s just say that parts of me are and sometimes I wish I could listen to those parts, but I can’t. Not until I’m sure the rest of me is ready.” Tom nodded and took her hand in his. She didn’t want to tell him how close she was to stripping him down and having her way with him she had actually been. Hell she was close to it now just sitting next to him while he was still only wearing pajama bottoms. Thin pajama bottoms.

She needed an excuse to get away from him. Normally she’d have gone to work, but that obviously wasn’t an option. There wasn’t anything to do. She didn’t need to clean, except maybe vacuum the living room before they left. Or she could just have the twins do it. Or she could do it right now and not have to have this conversation. He would just follow after her, talking over the vacuum or he’d unplug it when he got tired of her ignoring him and talk anyway. If she went for a walk he’d want to go with her. If she ran off he would follow her. She knew he wouldn’t let her go. It both terrified her and caused another crack in one of the walls she had so relentlessly polished. She used to believe that she’d created a diamond out of the walls she’d built around her. Nothing would get through them unless she wanted it to, which she didn’t. Now she thought her walls were nothing but a cheap glass imitation. Paste. More likely to shatter under the least amount of stress than be impervious to it. Was it Tom that had done it? Or was she actually tired of living in her self-imposed isolation?

Tom watched Amara as she looked away from him. She was very cautiously trying to tug her hand away from his as she sat and stared down at her feet. Yes he was pressuring her to talk, but she needed to talk to him. They needed to talk things out. He knew she wasn’t used to talking things out with anyone. Even with Michelle and Sarina being her best friends, his darling sable-haired wife still didn’t talk to them about her problems. Sarina and Michelle had both told him that trying to get Amara to open up was like pulling teeth. They hadn’t been wrong.

He sighed letting her pull her hand from his then dragged a hand through his hair. “Alright.”

“Hmm?”

“You said you weren’t ready. It’s all right, darling.”

“Lost in thought?”

“A bit.”

Amara nodded with a sigh of her own. She wanted to run away for a few minutes. Wanted to have room to just breathe without him glued to her hip. She knew he was afraid of losing her or his idea of her anyway, but she needed space and time. Two things he was trying his hardest not to give her. Whether he realized it or not.

She still had to come up with some plan to get rid of him. One that wouldn’t hurt him. If it hurt her, it didn’t matter. She was used to the pain of her solitude. Found it comforting, which was probably a bad thing, but now it didn’t matter so much. So how did she make Tom realize that she wasn’t what he needed? How did she make him see that he was infatuated with her only because she had accidentally tackled him twice and then happened to be in the same club? All of this would be ended if she would just be a complete bitch to him. She knew that, yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it. What she could do was make this as peaceful as possible.

“I have an idea.” She told him quietly.

“What’s that?”

“What if we just be lazy today?” _What was she thinking? She was supposed to be getting away from him. Not cuddling and spending more time together._ “Watch movies or something all day.” She could do this. She could spend time with him without wanting him. Without throwing herself in his arms. She was positive she could.

“We could go out for lunch then come back and watch movies. And you still have to pack, darling.” He took her hand again and this time she let him. He brushed his thumbs over her knuckles as he rested their joined hands on her knee.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“I’m asking my wife out to lunch.”

Tom watched as Amara frowned looking down at their joined hands. Whatever she was thinking, he knew it was a way out. A way to keep from leaving the flat with him. He’d think she would want to leave the flat that way they wouldn’t be so close. Especially because of what had happened. Almost happened. Probably it was for the best that they hadn’t gone any further. For right now at least.

“I’ll make lunch and I’ll pack before bed.” At least maybe that way she could at least pretend she was delaying the inevitable.

“Okay.”

Four movies and Tom begging her to let him read from the Folio later Amara was sat on his lap, curled around him in her chair as he read to her from the centuries old book. He turned the page and picked up a glass of wine and took a sip then held it to her lips. She sipped from the glass then rested her head back on his shoulder as he began to read once more. She loved how he could make the scenes from _Much Ado About Nothing_ come to life as he read it. The different voices he did for each character. The disdain in his voice when he was being Benedick or Beatrice and they were arguing and sniping at or about each other.

“My weakness,” she murmured as he finished reading the play.

“Hmm?”

“Pretty boys and Shakespeare.” She didn’t even care at the moment that she’d given him more to use against her. It was the truth. He chuckled quietly then reached around her to put the Folio back in its glass case. She leaned forward and turned the key in the lock then leaned back against him as he took the last sip of the wine they had been sharing. He shifted, cradling her in his arms then stood, making her squeal like a girl as she clutched at him to keep from falling from his arms.

“Tommy!”

“I won’t drop you.” He murmured as he carried her into the bedroom. “I won’t let you fall.”

The tone of his voice made her still and she realized he meant more than not letting her fall to the floor. It stunned her and made her worry at the same time. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On one hand it made her want to grin like a fool. On the other it made her want to run screaming the other direction. So very much about him did. He kissed her temple, brushing his lips over her hair then sat her on the bed.

“Time to pack, darling.”

“What if I want to just go to bed?”

“Too much wine?”

She shook her head slowly. “Too much of you.” She gave him a gentle smile then pulled him down and brushed her lips over his. “Far too much of you.” He smiled then walked into her closet and began pulling out clothes.

Amara finished packing and moved to the antique writing table then pulled open the drawer. She fumbled with the button for the secret compartment and opened it to pull out their wedding photo and her rings. Tom had been asking her about them and she’d refused to answer him. She should take them with them on their trip so she could give them back at the end of it. He wore his wedding band and she had the feeling that he had never taken it off. Amara sat on the bed and Tom smiled and took the wedding photo from her.

“We look happy.”

“Drunk, but happy.” She could at least agree with that if nothing else about their tentative relationship.

“Your rings?” Tom watched as his sable haired wife used a small key on her keychain to open the silver jewelry box she held in her lap. She lifted the lid, setting her keys aside, and pulled the two rings from the box. The diamonds glittered in the low light of the room and he smiled when she held them up to him. “Will you wear them,” he asked as he took them from her. She bit her bottom lip as she met his eyes.

“I don’t know. They make it seem more real. I don’t know if I can deal with that right now.” At least she was being honest about some things if she couldn’t be honest about all of them. He nodded the slipped her rings into the outer pocket of his carry-on bag. Their wedding picture went back into the bible she had pulled it out from and into her suitcase. She sighed then lay down on the bed, hugging his pillow to her as she watched him move to the corner of the room where she kept her guitars. If he could play it she was going to scream.

He picked one up, fiddling with the tuners until he liked the way it sounded. He struck a few chords, something that sounded more than a little familiar but she couldn't place it, and then sat the guitar back in the corner.

"You don't play often." He brushed the dust off of the neck of the vintage Gibson then walked to the bed and sat next to her.

"Only when the mood strikes. Which has not been a lot recently."

"Do you write anything?"

"No. I've no talent for it. My talents lie elsewhere."

"Oh?"

"I dance." His eyes lit up as he laid next to her and she knew it had been the wrong thing to say. Now he was going to want to dance with her. Except maybe not after he found out what kind of dancing she did.

"Did you take lessons?"

"Belly dancing, when I was a teenager."

"Really?"

"Oh, shut up!" Amara laughed slapping Tom's shoulder lightly.

"What? It was an honest question."

"Uh huh. I saw the wheels turning, mister." He only laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him.

"Will you dance with me, darling?"

"Mmm . . . Not right now. It's been a long day. We have to get up early in the morning." She closed her eyes, letting him hold her, and wondered how long it had been since she felt safe in anyone's arms besides one of the twins' or her mother's. Years. It had to have been years.

Tom smiled down at his sleeping wife. She was frowning in her sleep and he wondered if she was having another bad dream or if it just wasn't particularly happy. Maybe a memory from long ago. From what little he knew about her she'd had more happy moments than sad, but she was someone who held the pain closer to her heart than she had ever held the happiness. She expected pain so was more comfortable with it. Every time he did something nice for her or told her something lovely she reacted with shock and disbelief. As if she couldn’t believe that someone was that nice without wanting something in return.

He did want something though. He wanted her and would do anything he possibly could to make her his. To make her realize how much he needed her. She was flatly against it. At times though, she seemed eager to try out their relationship. She had moments where he thought she was wondering what it would be like. How they would be if she stayed with him. How much better she and things could be. Other times she wouldn’t even look at him, chose to pretend that he wasn’t even there. As if her mind was warring with her heart. He hoped her heart won.

Amara woke to the sound of quiet music and gentle hands brushing her hair from her face. At least she thought she was awake. Maybe it was a dream. She opened her eyes to find Tom standing over her, gently coaxing her awake. He looked beautiful even in his t-shirt and jeans. Though in her dreams usually he was wearing a black silk tux that had been fitted within an inch of its life. God, that man looked good in a tux. Her dream version of him anyway. She didn’t know about the other. She had always thought that a man in a properly fitted suit was more of a turn on than a naked man in bed.

"Come on, darling." Tom leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Come back to bed." She slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder, pulling gently. He laughed, barely more than a quiet chuckle, and shook his head.

"Dance with me, my love."

"Don't call me that. Those four letters hurt more than I can tell you." If it was a dream what did it matter that she confessed something like that to him? "And what is it with you always wanting to dance with me?"

"Dancing is one of my favorite things. Come along, sweetheart."

Amara let him pull her from the bed and wrapped her arms around him as she laid her head against his chest. His heart beat strongly against her ear, fluttering a bit when she skimmed her fingers under the hem of his shirt. He rocked her gently, swaying in time to the soft music coming from somewhere inside the room.

She let him lead her in a slow circle as candle light flickered around them. He reached down and pulled her right hand from his back and twined his fingers with hers as he rested their joined hands over his heart. She gave him a gentle smile as she met his eyes for the first time since he pulled her off of the bed. The ocean blue orbs glittered in the low light and she was almost afraid to admit, even to herself and in dreams, that the look in them was one of pure adoration.

The song ended and she held back a quiet gasp when he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. His lips barely brushed over hers but still had her heart pounding painfully in her chest. How could the lightest touch from him make her react so strongly? He pulled away from her and brushed his lips over her forehead.

"That should have been our first dance after we were married, darling. I'm sorry we didn't get to have one."

"A proper dance?"

"A proper wedding and a proper dance. We will though, later, if you want. If we're still together."

Amara only nodded, not knowing what to say. He'd just technically proposed to her even though they were already married. Would she eventually want a proper wedding if they did manage to survive each other for three weeks? What would happen after those three weeks? If they didn't get the marriage annulled she would have to get things sorted so she could move to London. She might not move immediately and she probably wouldn't move in with him straight away. She'd have to at some point though because spouses were not supposed to live in two separate households. The thought of living with him gave her chills. The thought of having to change her last name and file paperwork made her shudder. Amara Marie Hiddleston. She ran it through her mind as Tom tightened his arms around her, probably thinking she was cold. It didn't sound as bad as she thought it might.

"I'm not dreaming again am I?"

"No darling, you're not. Do you wish you were?"

She started to say yes. Would have if not for the look in his eyes. She knew it would hurt his feelings if she did admit that yes, she wanted it to be a dream. So she would tell him a little lie to keep from hurting him. "No. This is less scary than my dreams."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments, kudos, etc. are very much loved and appreciated. 
> 
> Also if you happen to notice any misspellings or grammatical errors please let me know and I'll fix them ASAP. I've read over this chapter about four times now and while I think I've gotten everything, it is quite possible that I have missed some.


	16. Flying - London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've got all of the screw-ups fixed. If you see any let me know and I'll fix it. I'm not completely thrilled with the way this one turned out but I tried.

Six hours later they were sitting next to each other on the plane. In another few hours they would be in London. The closer they got to Tom's hometown the more nervous Amara got. She clutched his hand in hers tightly and he had the grace not to pull away from her. She needed something solid, even if it was her husband’s hand, to hold onto while her mind raced through thoughts of what might happen once they reached London.

"Sweetheart, why don't you rest?"

"Can't. Too nervous." The words were clipped and she sighed heavily when he tried to pull his hand from hers. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

"It's all right." She untangled her hand from his and ran her fingers through her hair. She'd forgotten to pull it back before they left. There were a lot of things she'd forgotten to do before they left. She'd had to call Michelle and have her run to the apartment and turn the coffee pot off and put the clothes she'd washed and planned on taking with her to London and forgotten about in the dryer. She hadn't called her mother to tell her she was leaving the country for three weeks and possibly longer since she seemed to have carte blanche to return to work whenever she felt like it.

She still hadn't told her mother that she'd gotten married in the first place. The old fashioned woman would have thrown a shit fit if Amara had to be honest. She would never hear the end of it if she told her how it had happened so she refused to do it at all unless she and Tom wound up staying together. Which wasn’t going to happen. So she didn’t have to tell her mother anything at all. Good. Now she wouldn’t have to listen to her bitch for the rest of her life. She wondered if Tom had told his family.

“Tommy?"

"Hmm?"

"Em . . . do your parents know?"

"Do they know what, my darling?" She frowned at him knowing that he was only trying to get her to say it.

"That we're married." She whispered it in the quiet of the plane and it still sounded like a shout to her ears.

"Yes. I had to tell them before anyone else found out and they saw it in some paper or someone asked them about it. I didn't want them to be surprised."

"What did they say?"

"Well, they weren't exactly thrilled. They're not fond of the idea of their only son marrying a woman he'd only known for a day. They have their reservations, but trust my judgment. My mum is the most worried."

"You're not going to get in trouble are you? With like work people?" Tom gave her an endearing smile. As if he thought she was being stupid and was too polite to say so.

"No, darling."

"Are you sure? Don't you have management or something?"

"Everything will be all right."

"But it's not now, is it?"

"They're not happy about it; no one seems to be right now. They're worried about my being somewhat famous now; at least some people think I am, and that you're taking advantage of me. Everyone is."

"But I don't care. I didn't even know it was you, I mean you were you until Sarina told me. When she told me your name I didn't know who you were until I got on IMDB." Amara gave him a sheepish smile and he laughed until he had tears in his eyes and he hugged himself, leaning forward in his seat.

"Oh, darling, you positively humble me."

"Thomas." She gave him an irritated look, not in the least bit thrilled that he found her so amusing. "I mean I'd seen you in stuff before, but I didn't recognize you."

"What had you seen?" He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Wallander and The Hollow Crown things."

"Did you like them?"

"Immensely. You look different now."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Wallander was a few years ago now and your hair was so blonde and curly." He laughed and she frowned at him. "You could at least try to take this seriously."

"I'm sorry, darling." He sat straight back in his seat like a child giving serious attention to his teacher, his eyes earnest, and her frown turned to a glare. "Proceed."

"Thomas, please."

"All right, sweetheart. Please continue." He relaxed back into his seat, his legs crossed at the ankle and his knees wide apart. Even in first class he didn't have room for his long legs, though she had seen him sitting like that more often than not.

"In the Hollow Crown movies your hair was practically ginger. Now you're strawberry blonde. Your hair is shorter and you're not wearing leather or scruffy."

"I was only scruffy in the last one."

"I know. I just didn't recognize you at all until I read that you were in Wallander and the Hollow Crown series. So I guess the point I'm trying to make, convoluted though it may be, is that I don't care if people think you're famous. You're not famous to me. You're my silly, overly optimistic, sweet, gentle, and caring significant other. Aside from that there's nothing I want from you."

"You'll call me your significant other, but not your husband." He said it as a statement instead of a question so Amara didn't answer him. Only watched his eyes as thoughts flickered behind them.

"You promised you'd give me time, Thomas." She murmured when she finally realized his feelings were hurt. "Besides, I bumped you up to significant and it's only been like nine days. Or is it ten?" She said it to make him laugh, but he only gave her a weak smile and turned to look out the window. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. I did promise to give you time, Amara. I realize I've been pressuring you and you dislike being pressured into things. You think entirely too much about the smallest things. However, the reason I'm pressuring you is because I know that if I don't you will run screaming the other direction." He turned to look at her when she started to object and she fell silent. "Not because you've thought too much about it, but because you're frightened. You've been hurt too many times in the past and you don't want to be hurt again. I can't promise I won't hurt you, my darling. No one can promise that. The only thing I can promise is that I will do my absolute best not to hurt you. If you can't accept anything else right now, can you at least accept that?"

"Thomas."

"Don't think, Amara. Just tell me, yes or no."

"Yes." It was the first thing that came to mind and strangely she thought she actually could believe him. She didn't know why and to be honest she did think too much about things. But this, she thought, she could believe of him. She just hoped she was right.

"Okay." He gave her another weak smile and a gentle kiss then turned back to his window to stare out at the clouds below them. "You should rest, sweetheart. You didn't get enough sleep last night."

 _Because you wanted to dance._ She didn't say it out loud because he was done talking for now which was a relief but what he had said would leave her with more to think about than what she already had on her mind. Maybe she did need to not think for a while. Just let the pieces fall where they may, but how could she when she'd done nothing but think over every little detail of everything since she was a child?

"You're thinking again." Amara frowned looking to Tom and saw him still staring out the window.

"How?"

"That my darling girl is for me to know and you to find out."

"Ass."

Tom turned to Amara when she leaned against him and he smiled when he realized that she had indeed gone to sleep. That was good. If she was sleeping then she wasn't thinking of ways to get rid of him. Although maybe that was what she was dreaming? Hopefully it wouldn't be another nightmare. Or a way to be rid of him. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close and she sighed in her sleep.

He half didn't know why he wanted her so badly. The other half of him knew that he loved her and had from the moment she had knocked him down and fallen on top of him in the hotel corridor. When she had pushed herself off of him and he had seen those guileless dark chocolate eyes steeped in embarrassment and concern and the awkward smile parting those perfect lips of hers, he had known.

When she had tackled him the second time because she was too busy staring at her feet to walk he'd decided fate was throwing her at him. What else could it be? They had sat in the coffee shop for two hours talking and her mischievous nature and intelligence had further planted the seeds of love in his heart.

So he'd sent her birthday gifts. One that she was wearing even now, the TARDIS necklace, and safe and secure in her suitcase was the Adipose plush that she didn't know he knew she'd put in there when she thought he wasn't looking. He'd been so excited about getting her gifts and birthday cake to her that he'd forgotten to put his mobile number in the note. When he had realized his mistake he had gone to her rooms to find her gone.

He had been slightly depressed at that point but knew if fate had thrown them together twice then fate would step up once more. He had been dragged out to the club by an acquaintance with the promises of dancing and Tom had been unable to resist the hope that his Amara would be there as well. Two hours of dancing later he saw her sitting at the bar drinking her rum and Coke.

He had walked to her immediately and had grinned like a loon when he saw that she was wearing the TARDIS around her neck. The smile that lit her face when she saw him was still burned into his memory. She had been just as happy to see him as he had been to see her.

They had talked and drank and laughed. She had refused to dance with him, saying she was too drunk even though he knew she wasn't nearly as drunk as she was pretending to be. That had started the subtle drinking contest between them that wound up with them leaving the club and walking down the busy sidewalk. He had brought up fate and she smarted off about getting married.

Three hours later they had shopped for rings, found a chapel, and gotten married. They had somehow made it back to the hotel and gone to his room where they had gotten a bottle of champagne and drank it. The rest, well, the rest of it was just as wonderful and exciting as the rest of the day had been. More so in fact.

Ten days later they were headed to London in order to find out what would happen. This trip would make or break their relationship. He didn't think he'd ever been this nervous before. This frightened of something bad happening.

He didn't know what he would do if he wasn't able to show Amara how much they really needed each other. He pulled her even closer and tucked her head under his chin as he closed his eyes.

Tom woke with a start as he felt Amara pull away from him. She gave him a gentle smile and brushed her hand over his hair.

"We're here." He nodded then looked around the plane to see that he and Amara were two of the last few left on board. "You never woke up when they announced arrival. I figured you needed the sleep."

"I guess I did, sweetheart." He smiled then stood with her, reaching up into the overhead compartment to get their carry-on luggage. She stepped out into the aisle and motioned for him to lead. She hadn't the faintest idea as to where anything was and would willingly follow him if it meant she wouldn't get lost. He saw the wedding set sparkling on her finger and almost dropped their bags. "You're wearing them." She nodded.

"You were right."

"We'll work on it together, darling."

She nodded biting her lip as if she were unsure. "Okay." It was so very much not okay. She didn’t know what to do anymore. One part of her wanted to turn and run back home and file the annulment papers without him. The other half of her, the stupid, stupid half of her wanted to stick things out. She’d never been so torn in her life.

"Let's go."

Amara tried not to look like a tourist in the rush of the airport and finally gave up when she saw a few Doctor Who things set up. Tom laughed following after her and waited patiently while she walked around it. A Dalek spoke and Amara jumped with a little squeal making him laugh again.

"Oh, Tommy. It's wonderful. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"We should have gotten married here. If we stay together can we have a Doctor Who themed wedding?" She was joking, but kept an absolutely serious expression on her face. He blinked at her in silence until she gave in and started to giggle. "It would be so cool. You could be Eleven and I could be River. It would be sweet. Although you’ve got the curls. You could be River and I’ll be Eleven.”

"Amara, don't even joke about that. If we're together long enough to want to have a wedding I want a proper wedding. Though I do think I would look dashing in a Fez and a bowtie." He grinned and Amara shook her head still laughing.

"No." She looked around one last time and noticed people staring at them. She moved closer to Tom and took his hand, half hiding behind him. "People are staring. Do they normally?"

"Sometimes. It's all right. We'll get the rest of our luggage and go home. Luke is waiting for us with a car."

"Who is Luke?"

"He’s one of my best friends."

"Oh. The 'a wild Luke appears' guy?"

"I'm sorry?" Tom laughed leading her toward baggage claim.

"Em . . . Sarina showed me and Michelle this awesome website called Tumblr and there's all these gifs and memes of you and there's a few that I saw that had like you signing autographs or taking pictures with people or talking to people and suddenly this Luke guy is there trying to drag you away. They always say something to the effect of a wild Luke appears."

Tom was laughing loudly by the time she got done with her explanation and she laughed when he gave a gentle tug on her hand and pulled her against him. "I don't know if we should mention it to him, darling. Well, we might after a while. Just to see what he does." She nodded.

"Do you think he'll like me?"

"That's a bit of a tricky question, sweetheart. I'm sure he'll be nothing but polite. If he starts getting annoying with his questioning try not to snap at him, please."

"Am I that much of a bitch?"

"Em . . . I have heard you throwing a fit before darling. I won't say that you're a bitch, just passionate."

"Smooth, Tommy, real smooth." He only laughed and led her to the carousel for their bags. Amara grinned seeing her TARDIS blue luggage and grabbed it before it could go past then grabbed his and giggled again at the pink ribbon she'd tied to it so they could find it easier. "I still don't know why you needed three bags for three days." She murmured looking over the large bag with a smaller one strapped to it and then to the one he had carried on.

"I was prepared for it to take a few days longer."

"I see that. You had more clothes for three days than I've brought for three weeks."

"You are or were planning on leaving early. It was a mistake to tell you that it was an open ended ticket. I know that you were going to come here just to appease me and maybe stay for a few days. Then you would give up the pretense of even trying to see if we'll work out and go home."

"I didn't tell you that." It shamed her that he knew exactly what she had been planning to do. How had he known it? He certainly hadn't learned it from the twins. She hadn't told them. So how had he known? "Am I that transparent?"

"A bit."

“Are you angry with me?”

“No, darling. I would only be angry if you actually did it. I know you look for a way out. It’s as natural for you as breathing. I only want you to promise me that if you feel like you need to leave and have a legitimate reason, you’ll tell me. Don’t just walk out on me. Can you do that?”

Amara bit her bottom lip. How the hell could he be so patient and caring? So gentle with her? How did he keep from being angry with her? More importantly, how did he always know what she was going to do? It scared her to be honest. How could someone you barely knew see that deeply into you? It was frightening beyond words to have someone so in tune to her. Especially when that person had known her for little more than a week. Most of it didn’t even count because he had been gone.

“Can you promise?”

 _No. Yes. I don’t know._ Amara nodded then stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss. “I promise.”

“Sealed with a kiss.” She nodded again and he wrapped her in a quick hug then took his bag from her. “We should . . .”

“Tom!”

Amara and Tom both turned to see Luke rushing toward them. “A wild Luke appears.” She had murmured it where his friend wouldn’t hear and Tom bit back a laugh and snorted. It only made Amara giggle and he shushed her.

“Tom we should go,” Luke murmured quietly and tried to take his bag. Tom waved him off even as he nodded.

“Amara’s nervous of the crowd.”

“Hmm.” Luke looked down at her and she gave him a pleasant smile. His smile seemed forced and she sighed and stepped back, half hiding behind her husband. Tom moved back beside her and gave her a reassuring smile. She almost believed that everything would be okay. “Let’s go then.”

Luke turned and walked away leaving them to follow and Amara looked up at Tom biting her bottom lip. “He hates me,” she whispered. Tom shook his head.

“He’s just curious and worried for me. I’ll handle him if it gets to be too much, baby.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Tom smiled down at her then bumped her with his hip. “Let’s go home.”

Home. The thought of going home with him scared her almost as badly as the realization that he knew her so well when he barely knew her at all.


	17. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! I totally missed my Friday/Saturday update. I will endeavor to keep doing my twice weekly updates. It's getting a bit complicated in these later chapters and while I've gotten twenty-one chapters written they're only vague outlines of what I want them to be. So there might be possible delays and I beg your forgiveness in advance.
> 
> P.S. Thank you all so much for the hits, kudos, bookmarks, and comments! I never expected this to reach or even surpass the 1000 hit mark and I am absolutely floored by it. ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆
> 
> P.P.S This one's a little bit short and has some filler and some progression. I'm trying to get them to get down to business and get things straightened out, but Amara's not cooperating. *sigh*

Amara gazed out of the car window with barely concealed awe. She knew Tom was telling her about everything as they rode along but she’d stopped listening to detail and was only concentrating on the sound of his voice. She thought she might pass out otherwise. Everything was so new, but so old at the same time. Of course it was all new to her. She was seeing London in person instead of in a Doctor Who episode. It felt strange, but exhilarating. Her hand was in his, their fingers twined together and she nodded automatically when he asked her something. She hadn’t the faintest clue as to what he had said. When he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers she turned to him with a beatific smile.

“Are you listening?” He frowned slightly when Amara shook her head.

“I’m feeling.” She gave him such a warm smile that he smiled in return and she knew he forgave her for not listening to him.

“I was letting you know that we’re almost home and asking if you were hungry?”

“Oh. No. I couldn’t possibly eat now. I’m too excited.”

“You didn’t eat on the plane, darling.”

“I know. I was too nervous. I’m still nervous.” She put her free hand on her stomach as if to settle it and he only gave her an indulgent smile.

“When we get settled in we’ll order something and have it brought to the house.”

“Okay.”

A few moments later they pulled into the driveway of a gated house. Amara could only stare at it as Luke rolled down his window and punched in the code for the gate. The heavy iron slid open and Luke pulled in. The house was two stories and painted white. The shingles were a brick red color. The door was red to match the shingles and had a leaded glass window with a subtle floral design. There was a large bay window on one side of the door with curtains drawn against peering eyes. A flower bed full of blooming shrubs was under the window.

Just seeing where Tom lived made her even more nervous. Even just from the outside she could tell it was expensive. She knew she would be afraid to even walk inside for fear of messing something up.

“Come along, sweetheart.” Amara turned to find Tom had opened her door and was standing there holding his hand out to her. She gave him a nervous smile then placed her hand in his letting him help her out of the car. She stumbled over her own feet and he caught her with a gentle laugh. “Careful.” She nodded and turned to see Luke carrying both of her bags.

“I can get those.”

“It’s no trouble.” His words were almost terse and she looked away before he saw her frowning.

Better not get into a fight with Tom’s best friend so soon after meeting him. Then again maybe if they fought now it would save them the trouble of doing it later. Except Tom would be disappointed with her. She knew he would be.

“Come along.” Tom pulled his bags behind him as he led Amara to the door. They climbed the short steps and Tom let go of her hand to unlock his door. Once inside he went to a small panel and punched in another code. The lights on it turned green and Amara realized it was an alarm system. Did he have crazy people breaking in? Overzealous fans? Stalkers? It creeped her out to think that he might have had some problems with crazy people. Maybe he was just being cautious.

When Luke not so gently nudged her with her suitcase she realized she was still standing just inside the door. She stepped aside letting him in and he very nearly huffed and rolled his eyes. She frowned at him behind his back then stopped when Tom busted her. She gave him a weak smile that he returned and she turned to shut and lock the door behind them. She didn’t know if Tom kept it locked, but it was habit for her to do it. He didn’t object so maybe he did. Or maybe he just wanted her to feel safe, although just how safe she could be in a house with someone who was doing their damnedest to make sure she didn’t get comfortable she didn’t know.

“We’ll get you settled in in a little bit, darling.” Tom turned to her with a smile and she nodded biting her bottom lip when he took her hand and led her into the living room. They left their bags by the door and Luke followed after them.

Tom sat her down on the couch and she sighed. It felt like heaven after sitting on the plane for so many hours. She was so nervous she was shaking and tried to pull her hand away from Tom’s so he wouldn’t notice, but he only tightened his grip on her fingers and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. Tom sat next to her and Luke sat across from them in the beige armchair that matched the couch.

None of them said a word and Amara sighed then began looking around. There was a large fireplace that she absolutely loved. She had always wanted one, but it was too warm where she lived to have one. On the mantle above the fire place were framed pictures of Tom and what she guessed were his parents and sisters. One sister was older and the other was younger she thought he had said. His parents divorced when he was a teenager and she couldn’t help the sad smile. As sensitive as he was the divorce must have been difficult for him. She knew that even at ten years old when her parents had divorced she had somehow thought that it was her fault they were divorcing. That it was some failure of hers that caused her family to split apart. Had Tom felt the same way?

She turned from the fireplace and saw more pictures hanging on the wall to either side of it. More pictures of he and his family. In a few of them he was so very young. A bright eyed boy of about six if she had to guess and in some of them he was in his early teens. He was absolutely adorable. She smiled at that and wanted to look closer but was afraid to move and draw attention to herself.

With that thought she glanced between Tom and Luke and frowned. She didn’t think either of them had yet to speak a word. Sensing the tension between the two men Amara decided to make herself scarce to they could fight it out or whatever it was the two of them did. “Tom? Where’s the um . . . I need to powder my nose or smoke a joint or snort something. Take photos of everything and post it all over the internet from my phone. Tom’s Bathroom Exclusive!”

He laughed and Luke only glared at her. “It’s upstairs,” Tom told her still chuckling. “Up the stairs and it’s the second door on the left after the book shelves.”

“Thanks.” She glared at Luke as she walked past him and knew that he might be harder to win over than Tom’s mother, sisters, and father and she knew that would be a difficult feat. Not that she was going to try and win them over. She would be polite for Tom’s sake, but there would be no winning them over because she wasn’t going to stay. Was she? No, she wasn’t. So none of it mattered. Did it?

She climbed the stairs slowly, hoping that whatever was fixing to happen between the two men wouldn’t ruin or otherwise hurt their friendship. She knew it would hurt Tom if something bad happened. She paused at the massive bookshelves that were built into the wall and looked over them with a wanting sigh. How she would love to dig into them. Maybe she’d have time while she was here. She shook her head then walked into the bathroom and sat on the side of the tub that she’d kill to have in her own apartment. It was huge and reminded her of those old cast iron slipper tubs. She and Tom plus one other person could fit into it at the same time and still have room to spare. Not that she and Tom would be having communal bubble baths.

Only when Luke was sure she was actually in the loo, did he speak. “You can’t stay married to her, Tommy. You don’t even know her.”

“Of course I can and yes I do. Not nearly as well as I want to know her, but I do know her. She isn’t the type of person that would marry someone for their money or just because they’re famous. She wouldn’t willingly marry anyone in the first place.”

“She married you.”

“That was unusual circumstances.”

“Unusual? You were pissed.”

“I know that and I know that if she and I were not supposed to get married it wouldn’t have happened. You can’t tell me that it wasn’t meant to happen. Three times I ran into her, Luke. All three of those times made my heart pound in my chest so much that I thought it would beat straight through. Just looking at her sets my heart to beating like that. I have never felt like this before.” Tom admitted quietly.

“Tom.”

“I swear it, Luke. You know I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

“Jesus, you really think you love her.”

“I don’t think. I know.”

“You can’t know. Not after, what? Not even two weeks? There’s no way. You know nothing about her.”

“Yes I do. I know she’s loyal and protects the people she cares about. She’s twenty-eight and her parents divorced when she was ten.”

“None of that is what I mean, Tom.”

“I’ve already told you everything about her, Luke. Before I went after her I told you because you needed to know in case you had to fend off questions about her. About us.”

“Get the annulment, Thomas.”

“No.”

“She married you for your money.”

“Bullshit!”

“Get the annulment before you wind up having to get a divorce. They can get messy.”

Amara growled listening to Luke as he raised his voice loud enough that she could hear. She thought some his reasons why she and Tom shouldn’t be together were valid, but when he accused her of only marrying Tom for his money she got pissed. And when he told Tom to let Amara get the annulment she clenched her hand into a fist. (Which was idiotic because she wanted the annulment. Didn’t she?) When Tom told Luke that he and Amara were waiting until the annulment period was up to decide what to do and Luke told Tom not to wait until a divorce was necessary because it would only get messy, Amara was fed up with his shit. Even if he was absolutely correct. She and Tom needed to get the annulment and go their separate ways.

She walked out of the bathroom where she’d been hiding and marched down the corridor and to the stairs. She took them two at a time and slid between Tom and Luke once she reached the two men.

“If we get our marriage annulled it will be because we’d have decided it was the right thing to do. If we wait until a divorce is necessary to end our marriage then it will be because we’d have decided it was best. We will not void our marriage just because some grumpy douchebag doesn’t want us to be together!”

Tom nearly choked and Luke looked like he was fixing to blow a gasket. “Grumpy douchebag? How dare you?”

“How dare I? How dare you!” Amara jabbed her finger into his chest and he took a stumbling step backward. “Tom said you’re one of his best friends. So far I haven’t seen that. If you’re his friend act like it and support whatever decision he makes. You don’t have to like it, you don’t have to like me, but you damn well should respect him enough to let him make his own decisions without you interfering. Whatever will happen is going to happen whether you want it to or not. I’m here because Tom wants me to be here. You may not like it, you don’t have to like it, but you’ll damn well stop meddling in affairs that don’t concern you.”

“He’s my friend and I don’t want him hurt.”

“I won’t hurt him. Not purposely, but you’re hurting him by being such a prick. So chill the fuck out.” With that Amara turned away from him and looked to her husband. Tom was staring at her with something not unlike pride shining in his eyes. She was half afraid he’d have been mad at her. She had known he was willing to fight for them, but until Luke had started his shit she didn’t realize just how much Tom had become to mean to her. It didn’t mean she was in love with him, but it did mean that she was thinking of him as a friend. She’d always had a protective streak a mile wide for her friends. Tom was apparently no exception.

She had bitten her bottom lip in thought and Tom put his hands on her shoulders, fingers digging lightly into her skin. “Sweetheart . . .”

“I’m sorry, Tom. I didn’t mean . . . it pissed me off to hear him say those things. Accusing me of things that didn’t happen. Did you tell him I had no clue who you were?”

“I did.”

“Amara.”

She turned toward Luke slowly when he spoke her name, Tom’s hands sliding off of her shoulders as she moved. “Yes?”

“He’s not upset with you. In fact I think he’s rather pleased.” Amara blinked up at Luke and he gave her a small smile.

“You’re not, though.” She watched him warily, not knowing where he was going with his thoughts.

“On the contrary. You’ve just proven what he has told me about you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re protective of those you consider yours and you . . .”

“I don’t think he’s mine.” Amara interrupted him. Best make that clear before he thought other things. Amara in no way wanted to think or even believe that Tom was hers. At least that was what her head told her. Her heart? Her heart wanted her to throw all her baggage away and throw herself in Tom’s arms. That wouldn’t happen until she knew for sure neither of them would be hurt. The whole thing was stupid in and of itself. She’d known him little more than a week. She shouldn’t be throwing anything at him. Especially her heart. The stupid thing kept trying to ruin her plans for going home and getting an annulment.

Luke blinked down at her then looked over her head at Tom who was still standing behind her.

“She doesn’t know, does she?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t even realize it.”

“Nope.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Excuse me? I’m right here.” Amara moved from between the two men and sat on the couch, glaring at the both of them for talking about her like she wasn’t even there. What the hell were they talking about anyway? What didn’t she know? What didn’t she realize? She hated the fact that they were acting like she was a simpleton that didn’t understand what was going on. Even if that was how she felt at the moment. “Thomas!”

The Brit jumped and turned to his wife with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, darling.”

“What do you two mean? What don’t I know?”

“Oh, my sweet Amara. You’ll find out soon enough.” Tom reached forward and drew a lock of her hair over her shoulder and twirled it around his elegant fingers. Amara pulled her hair away from him and tossed it back over her shoulder.

“Are you two being jerks because I called Luke a grumpy douchebag?” Amara looked to Luke. “I apologize for that by the way. It was uncalled for.”

“Apology accepted. I must be on my way. I’ve some things to take care of.” Amara nodded and Luke turned back to Tom. “I’ll talk to you soon.” Tom nodded then walked Luke to the door with Amara frowning after them.

Tom was back moments later and gave Amara a blinding smile when he saw that she was still frowning. No doubt thinking over everything and trying to figure out what he and Luke were talking about. Tom didn’t know how Amara could be so aware and so blind at the same time. She thought over every detail, ran through every possible scenario and yet still didn’t seem to have a clue about anything at all. Especially about how much he cared about her or how much she cared about him. Was she in denial? Or did she honestly not realize it?

“Darling?”

“Hmm?” Amara blinked up at him and he almost laughed.

“Let me show you around? We’ll take our things to the bedroom.”

Amara all but gulped in fear. She didn’t think she wanted to be in the same bedroom as Tom. They had slept in the same bed at her apartment because she didn’t have a guest room and she knew the couch was miserable to sleep on. There had to be some other option here. She wasn’t ready for something like this. Not when there was so much of him here. She’d nearly slept with him again at her apartment because he was so close. What would happen if she stayed in his room with him?

“Haven’t you got a guest room? The house is big enough for one.”

“I thought you’d sleep with me.”

“At the apartment I didn’t have anywhere else for you to sleep. If there’s another option here I’d like to take it. I’m not ready to share your room.”

She knew it would be different here. There was too much of Tom here. Everything in the house screamed his name to her. She’d rather be at a hotel where she wouldn’t be surrounded by him. Hell, she’d rather be at home and nowhere near him. She would rather have the annulment and her old life back as well. It was safer. It was calm and predictable and she was utterly alone except for her mother and the twins. She preferred it to being alone with a man she barely knew and felt drawn to for some inexplicable reason.

He sighed and she realized she’d once again hurt his feelings. Maybe she’d been a little bit hateful when she’d told him she’d rather sleep elsewhere. At least she was being honest with him.

“I have a guest room. I’m afraid it’s not furnished very well.”

“All I need is a bed and somewhere to put my clothes.”

“It has that.”

“All right.” He held a hand out to her and she took it, letting him pull her from the couch. He held onto her hand when she tried to pull away and she met his eyes. “What’s wrong?” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles looking deep in thought.

“I’m wondering what it will take for you to trust me.”

“Time. It takes time, Thomas. It’s only been nine days since we met.”

He nodded, looking anything but convinced, and sighed. “Let me show you to your room then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always con-crit, comments, kudos, etc. are very much loved and appreciated! ｡◕‿◕｡


	18. Pizza And A Movie

Tom stood in the doorway watching Amara putting her clothes away in the closet. The room was sparse because he had yet to find the time to be able to furnish it properly, but his Amara didn’t care. He thought it was mostly because she was afraid of being alone with him. Especially on his own turf as it were. If she didn’t feel anything for him she wouldn’t be as frightened as she was. She was desperately trying to convince herself and him that she didn’t care for him.

It would be a lie if he said he wasn’t frightened as well, although for entirely different reasons. He was afraid he would lose her before he even really had her. Their names on a piece of paper, which was in his luggage, were the only tie he had to keep her with him. It was essentially blackmail, telling her he would only give her the paper if she agreed to this arrangement, but he wasn’t above it. Not if it meant he got to have time to convince her how much they meant to each other, even after so short a time. He knew she was still plotting and planning her escape. He only had to keep from falling for it.

“Tom?” He broke from his thoughts to see Amara standing in front of him. “Where were you?”

“Just thinking, darling.”

“About?”

“Things.”

“Hmm…” She narrowed her eyes at him. She knew damn good and well he wouldn’t tell her whatever it was that he’d been thinking about. She also knew it was about her. He was probably trying to devise a way to get her into his bedroom and into his bed. She wouldn’t let it happen unless she was damn good and ready.

“Food?”

“Huh?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Not particularly.”

He sighed then took her hand and led her out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. He sat her on the couch then pulled his mobile from his pocket. “Pizza alright, darling?”

“I’m not hungry, Thomas.”

“You’ll eat, just the same. You’ve not had a bite at all today.”

“Thomas, I don’t want food. I don’t . . . I don’t eat when I’m nervous.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to be nervous.”

“I can’t help it. This is all new to me. Getting married, running off to London with a man I barely know.”

“Not for lack of trying.”

She chose to ignore that comment. “This whole thing is unsettling. I had my quiet, boring, comfy, life and now it’s turned upside down. The twins are badgering me to stay with you and give you a chance, but I don’t know if I can, Tommy. Not the kind of chance you should have. The twins approve of you, but I think that it’s only because they’re star struck. Sam just wants to me have a man in my life because I’ve never had one as long as she’s known me. They all think you could be good for me.”

“What do you think? Under all of your reservations and issues.”

“I don’t know.” God how she wished she knew. She wished she knew what she was supposed to do. If she listened to her heart she would throw away every bit of her past that had hurt her. She’d throw away all of the baggage surrounding her fear (and she would admit that it was fear, at least to herself) of men and people in general. She’d throw away what had happened with Ville in college. She’d throw everything away and just be Amara. Possibly the loving wife. How could she manage that though, when she had everything running through her mind? When her heart was liable to be broken in a moment’s notice? “I think you’ll either break me or heal me and right now I’m not sure which will happen.”

“Fair enough. Now, is pizza all right or would you rather have something else?”

She sighed in defeat and he grinned maniacally, much like his Loki that Sarina had made her watch. Purely to make her heart break she was sure. The circumstances surrounding his life and the betrayal he was dealt were tragic and had made her cry. She was absolutely sure the reason Sarina had made her watch Thor was to make her cry over Tom. Over his Loki. Which she’d rather die than ever admit to him.

“Pizza is fine, Tommy. No onions though.” He nodded then dialed his mobile, she listened to him order and she knew he’d done it quite a few times. How else would have the number memorized? Did he not know how to cook? He was thirty-three, surely he did. “Can you cook?” She asked when he hung up and sat his mobile on the coffee table.

“Yes, very well actually. It was easier to order something tonight.” Amara nodded biting her bottom lip. “Can you cook?”

“I do well enough, I suppose. Well, I burn water occasionally, but yeah. I try. I make awesome macaroni and cheese. I open the box all by myself and everything.” She giggled when he only blinked at her. “I can actually make it from scratch. I’d just rather not cook an actual meal when it’s only ever just me.”

“You don’t cook for Sarina and Michelle?”

“Every great once in a while. My mom sometimes. We usually go out to dinner though, me and mom.”

“Tell me about her.”

“My mom?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s nothing to tell, Tom. She’s my mom.”

“Sweetheart, how will we ever get to know each other if you won’t talk to me?”

“Tommy, it’s . . . I’m a very private person. Not even the girls know everything and I’ve known them for fifteen years. I’m jaded and cynical and I don’t trust people easily. Which you seem to do since you’ve brought a woman you don’t know into your house.”

“Amara, I know you more than you think I do.”

“I’m sure the twins told you a fair bit.”

“Not as much as you’d think. Now, tell me about your mum.”

“I dunno.” Amara shrugged her shoulders following after Tom when he stood and walked into the kitchen. “She’s a school teacher. She teaches Biology to a bunch of annoying fifteen year olds. Makes them do froggy autopsies and stuff. She’s a good teacher, but I hated being in my mom’s Biology class. She was harder on me than the other kids in my class. Or maybe I was just harder on her because she was my mom.” Amara smiled at that and watched as Tom pulled two glasses down then started digging in his fridge. He came out with two beers and raised his eyebrows. Amara nodded and he opened them then poured them in their glasses. “Mom’s cool for the most part. No embarrassing mom stuff lately. She has her moments though. She’s very old fashioned and I was raised that way to a point. I’ve made my own rules for the last ten years or so anyway.”

“Since you were a child, you already told me.” Amara nodded with a grim smile.

“Yeah. And . . . I haven’t told my mother about you.”

“You’ve not?”

“No. She’d flip her lid and demand we get it annulled.”

“The way you did?”

“Not fair, Tommy.” He gave her a weak smile then leaned against the counter and took a sip of his beer. “Anyway she’d flip out and I’d rather not even tell her unless we wind up staying together. And maybe not even then. It will save me from getting bitched out for the rest of my life.”

Tom chuckled then walked out of the kitchen when the intercom at the gate buzzed. Amara sighed heavily then turned to the table and picked up her beer. Jesus what the hell was she doing? She looked down at the table and smiled at the mass amounts of scripts and papers littering it. She bet he didn’t do a lot of eating at the table. She picked up a piece of paper with his elegant scrawl all over it and realized it was notes related to the script it had been laying on. She sat it back down, fingers itching to pick up one of the scripts that had sticky notes marking pages. She turned away from them when she heard her husband walking back into the room.

“Dinner is here, darling.”

“Okay. You want to clean off the table?” She asked when he walked into the kitchen carrying the pizza box.

“Em . . . Probably it’s better we eat in the living room. I’ve got things organized. Chaotic, but organized.”

“Is there a method to your madness?”

He grinned. “Yep.”

“You sit in here and drink tea when you’re reading them don’t you?” He gave her a sheepish smile and she laughed.

“Not always in here, but yes for the most part. I’ll clean it tomorrow.”

“No, you don’t have to. I don’t mind it, I’m just tempted to read them and I’m sure I’m not supposed to.”

“Probably not, no.” Amara grinned at that and he chuckled quietly then picked up their beers and carried them into the living room.

Tom watched Amara lean back against the cushions and close her eyes. He knew she was tired. Dark circles lined her dark chocolate eyes and exhaustion showed in her posture.

“You shouldn’t fall asleep yet, Amara. You’ll get jetlagged.”

“I’m tired though, baby.”

“I know, sweetheart. Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Mmm, yeah. Just put in whatever you want.”

Tom nodded then stood from the couch and walked to the book shelves he kept his DVDs in and looked them over. He wanted something that was something he knew she wouldn’t normally watch. A romance or romantic comedy. He just wanted to annoy her, honestly. Although she really would be jetlagged if she did fall asleep now. If you stayed awake after a long trip it would help ease the jetlag even if you only wanted to crawl into bed and go to sleep as soon as you got where you were going.

He spotted the case for August Rush and thought it would fit well enough. Amara would most likely hate it based on the fact that it was a drama with romantic elements. And there just happened to be somewhat relatable moments. The love between Lyla and Louis and what they and their son went through always brought tears to his eyes. His Amara would hate it. He grinned to himself as he put it in then went back to the couch and sat next to his exhausted wife. With any luck she’d be annoyed enough to stay awake. Or start fussing at him. She had no idea how beautiful she was when she was annoyed with him.

 _Oh, Hiddleston, you’ve got it bad._ He sighed then looked down in surprise when Amara laid down on the couch, her head resting on his thigh as she curled onto her side.

“Do you mind?”

“No, darling.” He pushed play on the movie and reached down, combing his fingers through her slightly tangled hair.

“Keep doing that and I’ll fall asleep. Also, for future reference, I hate sappy movies.” He only laughed then turned his gaze to the film only to look back to his wife a few moments later. Her eyes were so expressive and let him see the truth of what she thought of the storyline, even as she frowned in distaste.

“Really, Tommy? Two people falling in love after like five minutes of listening to some dude playing a harmonica? A one night stand and them being that invested in each other?” The similarities were not lost on her and she knew that was why he put the damned movie in. “We didn’t have music.” Not that she was in love with him. She totally wasn’t. Refused to even entertain the idea that she might be or might one day be in love with him. Love was for sentimental fools that didn’t realize how much the people that claimed to love them actually used them before throwing them away like so much garbage.

“Shh. Just watch the movie.”

“You’re a jerk.”

He chuckled and she sat up, pulling her hair from his hand. He knew she was wanting to say something else, probably something snarky, but she only sighed and nudged him into the corner of the couch. He allowed her to arrange him to her liking and she snuggled against him, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m tired and you’re comfy.”

“Yes ma’am.”

When the movie was over Amara sighed pulling away from the most comfortable spot she could have ever found. Arms tightened around her for a moment before turning her loose and she smiled at Tom over her shoulder. He was still relaxed into the corner of the couch and wrapped his legs around her waist to hold her still when she tried to stand. She laughed worming her way out of them then turned and leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Tom.”

“Goodnight, darling.” He turned his head and brushed his lips over hers and chuckled quietly when she gasped and jumped backward, almost falling over the coffee table.

“Ass.”

The sound of his laughter followed her up to her bedroom until she closed the door. So much for keeping her distance. Four hours alone with him in his house and she was already throwing herself in his arms. She was right. There was too much of him here. Damn heart. Damn brain for getting her into this mess in the first place. No, it wasn’t fair to blame it all on her head. She blamed the twins for dragging her to Vegas to begin with. She blamed Tom for conning her into that ridiculous drinking contest. She blamed herself for being an insufferable smartass. She blamed Tom for being so damned sweet. She blamed the mass amounts of alcohol for letting her heart bypass her brain. For letting her hormones take over afterward.

A quiet knock on the door broke her from her musings. “Yeah?” The door cracked opened slowly and Tom stuck his head in.

“I set the alarm so we’re good for the night. I usually go for a run around sunrise so if you hear anything it’s me. Though I might not go tomorrow. I’ll probably have a bit of a lie in. If you wake up before I do the coffee maker is ready to go. There’s breakfast things if you want it.”

“Coffee’s fine.”

“Feel free to wander around a bit if you can’t sleep. New places.” She still wondered how the hell he knew her so well in so little time. “There’s books.”

“Thank you. Do you want to tell me why you’re procrastinating?” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

“Just being a considerate host.”

“Goodnight, Thomas.”

“You only call me Thomas when I’ve irritated you.”

“Be prepared to hear it a lot.”

He laughed and gave her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.” She laughed and watched him back out of the room and close the door. “Goodnight, darling.”

“Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always kudos, comments, etc. are loved and appreciated. ｡◕‿◕｡


	19. In The Rain

Amara woke to a quiet tapping on her door and nearly groaned. Was it morning already? Surely Tom had things to do besides wake her up to torture her. Wasn’t he supposed to have rehearsals or something? _Please let him have rehearsals today._ She begged whoever would listen to her. She wanted him to have rehearsals. Wanted him to leave her alone for a little bit. She needed to get her head together.

The tapping sounded again and she sighed. “Yeah?”

“Are you decent, darling?”

“No, but I’ve got jammies on.”

Tom chuckled and when he opened her door she sat up and turned to see him standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of low slung jeans. He held up a cup of coffee and she nodded with a small smile. Trying her damnedest not to stare at him or drag her eyes down his chest and stomach as he stood there. Her eyes dropped down without her permission and she bit her bottom lip when they landed on the waist of his jeans that just barely rested on his hips and that V that made all girls stupid. How the hell was he even keeping his jeans up? The thought that entered her mind next had her blushing and looking away from him.

Tom grinned watching his blushing wife turn away from him to hide her face. She hugged her knees to her chest turning her head to face the wall. He didn’t doubt that she wanted him. He had seen the look in her eyes and he was pretty sure he knew exactly what was going through her mind. He wasn’t above exploiting any weakness he could find. Which is why he’d only worn the baggiest pair of jeans he owned. He almost laughed then walked to the bed and sat next to her.

“Here’s your coffee, love.”

“Thanks.” She took it from him, lifting her head to give him a small smile, the blush still on her face.

“What’s the matter?”

“You’re pretty.” She blurted it out then saved herself from saying anything else that stupid by taking a drink of her coffee. He made the best coffee. Of course he probably paid a little bit more for his coffee than what she was comfortable with. Though he managed to make the swill that she made taste good as well.

“You really think so?” She’d told him that before, but he wanted to hear her say it again.

“Yes.” _I’m stupid. God, I’m so stupid._ “Haven’t you got rehearsals or something?”

“There are rehearsals tomorrow. I thought we’d go out for lunch today.”

Shit. There it was. More time spent with someone that could break her heart if she let him. She wouldn’t let him. “Are you asking me out on a date?” The thought of being alone with him scared her, but the thought of being out with him in public was much worse.

“I’m offering to take you out for lunch.”

“Why do you always want to go somewhere? Can’t we be hermits and hide away from everyone else?”

Tom blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Why don’t you want to be seen with me in public?”

“I’m not ready for you.”

“You’ve said as much several times now, darling.”

“I mean that I’m not ready for Tom Hiddleston. The whole people knowing who you are thing.”

“Amara, I’m not as famous as you seem to think. I do go out on my own without being noticed.”

“But the twins.”

He laughed shaking his head. “The twins like to over exaggerate if you hadn’t noticed. Some people think I’m famous. Other people have no idea who I am. No one will bother us.”

“But if someone sees us and our rings.”

“Then people will find out that we’re married.”

“Exactly. You’ll be hounded and I don’t know what I’ll be except getting attention that I’d rather not have. I’m nobody and you’re you.”

“You’re not nobody, Amara. You’re my insecure, beautiful, caring, wife. There’s not a person on this planet that is a nobody. You’re not going to talk your way out of it, love.”

“Fine.” If it would get him to stop talking she’d do anything. She didn’t know how he thought she was caring. She’d shown him very little of how much she cared for him. He knew how much she cared about Sarina, Michelle, and her mother, but that was different. It was nowhere near the same way she cared for him. Not that she cared for him in any way but friendship. “Where are we going?”

“A little place. Finish your coffee, darling.”

Tom waited by the door as Amara practically dragged her feet as she walked through the living room. He knew she didn’t want to leave the house with him for fear that they would be noticed but he needed to acclimate her to it. He did honestly hope that they wouldn’t be noticed, but he knew they might be. He hated that Amara would, at some point, have to deal with paparazzi or fans. She was extremely private and being out in the open wasn’t something she was comfortable with. She tucked her hair behind her ears in what he knew was a nervous gesture and he smiled looking her over. She wore a pale pink fitted t-shirt and a pair of snug jeans with a pair of brown leather combat boots.

“My clothes messed up?” She looked down at herself wondering why Tom was staring, and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her shirt.

“No. Your clothes are fine.”

“I’m nervous, Tom.”

“You’ll be fine, darling. I promise.”

Amara nodded then walked outside when he opened the door for her. She waited on the porch as he set the alarm then bolted the door. It was only when he turned to lead her down the stairs that she noticed a Jaguar sitting in the drive.

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t here yesterday.” Tom only laughed, taking her hand and walking her to the car.

“I don’t like to leave it here when I’m gone. I had Luke drop it off earlier.”

“Oh.” He opened the door for her and she gave him a gentle smile then climbed into the car. How the fuck much money did he make? Or, like she’d thought when she tackled him in the hotel, he came from money. She still wondered if he sometimes lived off of a huge trust fund.

“What’s wrong, now?”

“Hmm?” Amara looked over to see that Tom had gotten in the car and she hadn’t even noticed him closing his door.

“You’ve got that look on your face again.”

“What look?”

“The one that means you’ve thought of something you don’t like.”

“I have a look?”

“You have many looks, my darling.”

She frowned at him then turned to stare out of the window. “I was just wondering about the car.”

“And?”

“It’s expensive.”

“Is money an issue?”

“No. I just . . . never mind. I don’t want to talk about it now. Tell me where we’re going?”

“For lunch.” If she could be dodgy with her answers so could he. He didn’t have to ask himself if it was petty. He knew it was.

Amara sighed as she watched the world sliding by her window. When she breathed in she caught the scent of his cologne and warm leather. God he smelled good. It made her want to bury her face against his neck and breathe him in. She clenched her fists around her seatbelt so she wouldn’t do it. Instead she turned her head just enough to get him in her peripheral. So she could look him over as he drove. He wore a black leather jacket that she’d seen him wearing in several pictures that Sarina and Michelle had shown her, a white t-shirt, the same pair of baggy jeans he’d worn when he woke her up, and boots that look suspiciously like cowboy boots. The sun hit his eyes and he grabbed a pair of sunglasses that had been clipped onto the visor and slid them on.

Tom smiled to himself keeping an eye on his wife when he saw her turn her head just a fraction to look back out of her window. He had seen her looking him over, seen her hands tighten on her seatbelt as if to keep from reaching out to him. He bit back a quiet chuckle as he watched the way her eyes lit up when she saw something she liked. Watched her when she turned in her seat to take a second look. He didn’t try talking to her again. He knew she wouldn’t be listening. Not because she didn’t care what he would say, but because she was lost in her own thoughts. Lost in seeing sights that she’d never seen before. At least, he was positive, not outside of an episode of Doctor Who.

He thought she’d lived in the same town her entire life. He knew for certain she’d never been out of the country except once when she’d been eighteen and gone to Ireland to find her father. Her passport had expired since then and they had gone to get it renewed. Amara had grumbled about having to get it expedited, but still she had done it and refused to let him pay for it even though it was his fault she had to do it.

He knew she was wanting to be a tourist, even if she wouldn’t admit it, and he planned on taking her to a few places before she went back to work. He only had to think of things that she might enjoy. He wanted to take her on The Eye, tour the Tower of London, and maybe take her to Covent Garden to the street markets. Maybe the Natural History Museum. He knew for sure that she would like it. And probably the Royal Academy of Arts and then take her to the Shenkman Bar for drinks after. He hoped he managed to have enough free time to take her to at least a couple of the places he wanted to take her.

Though with her fear of large groups of people, maybe street markets and crowded places were a bad idea. There would be crowds at any of the tourist things he tried to take her to though. He would have to help her manage. Keep her attention elsewhere instead of letting her focus on the masses. It made him wonder if she had some kind of anxiety disorder or if she just didn’t like people in general?

“Baby?”

“What, love?” He tried to hide his grin at the fact that she called him baby again. Amara hid a frown when he once again called her love.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For being kinda bitchy with you when you try to do nice things for me. Like this. Just taking me out for lunch and not expecting anything. I’m sorry that I’m always thinking you have an ulterior motive.”

“Well, I can’t say that I don’t have ulterior motives. I want you with me Amara.”

“I know. I can’t help but think the worst of people and I try not to with you because so far you’ve been completely honest about what you want. I think that’s my issue. I don’t know whether to trust you or not and your honesty is making it difficult. And that makes no sense, but that’s how it is.”

“I think you trust yourself least of all, darling, and that is why you’re having difficulties.” Amara only turned back to the window, ending their conversation, and he nodded to himself. He had known that was part of the problem. Almost from the beginning he had known, but when she told him that there was too much of him at his house for her that had only cemented it in his mind. The only thing he could do was be true to himself and to her and hope that everything worked out.

Of course he wasn’t above giving her a nudge or two.

When Tom finally parked the car Amara looked up and down the sidewalk, noting a place called Baileys that was thrumming with activity. Tom came around and opened her door then held his hand out to her. She took it, letting him help her from the car so she didn’t trip over her own feet like she usually did when getting out of a vehicle, then quickly pulled her hand from his and shoved it into her jeans pocket so no one would see the wedding rings she’d been wearing since the flight. She didn’t want to take any chances though it was probably a moot point since he was still wearing his ring and didn’t seem to care who saw it. Still, she didn’t want anyone to know just yet that she Mrs. Hiddleston. Hell she didn’t want anyone to know at all. She’d never hear the end of it and neither would Tom.

She looked around as he closed her door and the scent of frying fish filled her nose. She laughed letting him take the hand not shoved in her pocket. “You brought me for fish and chips.” He nodded with a grin.

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“You big dork. Are you sure this isn’t a date?”

“We’re being tourists.”

“Living here kind of makes you not a tourist.”

“I can still do touristy things.”

“Yeah huh.” Amara grinned and he let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her close. She tensed slightly, but let him hold her. It would be more noticeable and cause more issues if she jerked away from him than it would if she let him hold her close. The scent of warm leather and his cologne filled her nose again and she almost groaned. He was trying to kill her, she was sure of it. He led her down the sidewalk to Baileys and she pulled him to a stop when she saw how many people were inside.

“What is it, darling?”

“There’s too many people inside.” She whispered. “I can’t do that many people.” The place was packed like a can of sardines, people squeezing past each other and bumping against each other as they tried to walk through. She did notice that most of the people were standing in line and taking their food to go. Maybe Tom would let her wait outside. “Can I wait out here, baby? And you go in?”

“What if you just hang on to me? Do you think you can do that?”

“Maybe.” She swallowed heavily and nodded. “I think so.”

“You didn’t have this problem at the club, darling.”

“I’d been drinking beforehand, remember?”

“Yes, I’d forgotten. Come in with me and if it gets to be too much you can come back out. Will that work?” Amara nodded then took a deep breath to steady herself. She hated the way she was clinging to him as he walked her inside, but she couldn’t help it. She was going to have a panic attack. She was pretty sure of it. “Focus on me, love.” He murmured against her ear. She nodded, wrapping her arm around his waist, completely forgetting in her panic, to hide her wedding rings. She hoped they looked like a snuggly couple instead of someone comforting a short chick with anxiety issues. How far she'd fallen.

They moved up the line slowly but surely, Amara hanging on to him while he kept his arm around her. More to keep her with him than to hold her. He brushed his lips over the top of her head and she frowned up at him. Tom smiled, trying not to laugh, then brushed his lips over hers. "You're doing well, darling."

"And you're taking advantage."

"Most definitely." He grinned down at her and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Ass."

By the time they reached the counter Amara was tapping her fingers against her husband’s side in a steady rhythm. Trying to distract herself from the crowd that seemed to be growing larger and larger even though most of it was the same people that had been there when they walked in the door. The tapping had to be annoying, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. She nodded when he asked her if she wanted him to order for her and then she was once again lost to her tapping and the comforting scent of him.

Amara started when Tom turned her around and she blinked, realizing that he’d already gotten their food and was leading her back outside. She sighed with relief once they were clear of the throngs of people and she pulled away from him to lean against the building.

“Alright?”

“Yeah. Just let me. . .” She took several deep breaths as they stood on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart, you did well.” She gave him a weak smile as she steadied her breath and she took his free hand.

“Where we going now?”

“There’s a park I like to run in, I thought you’d like it there. It’s quiet. Not a lot of people this time of day.”

“Then it’s back close to the house?”

“Yes.”

“You drove all the way here for fish and chips just to turn around and go back home?”

“Yep.”

“Better be some damn good fish.”

“It is, darling. Come along.”

Amara rolled her eyes letting him drag her back to the car.

Tom dragged his wife halfway into the park before finding an empty bench and sitting them down. He handed Amara her food then pulled his out and tucked the bag under his leg.

“How often do you do this?” Amara asked.

“Not as often as I’d like.”

“It’s beautiful here.” He nodded as she sighed and looked around. The flowers were blooming, the trees were completely covered in leaves and buds. Birds and other animals chattered quietly, as if they were afraid of breaking the peace that surrounded them.

“You should see it at sunrise. The light hits that little hill, just for a moment when the sun is rising, but it’s one of the most beautiful things.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sap?”

“A few people. You have a few times.”

“It’s kinda cute, Tom.”

“Kind of cute is a bit of a step down from pretty isn’t it?”

“Oh, God.” Amara blushed then elbowed him softly. “You’re not going to let that go are you?”

“You’ve called me pretty a total of three times now.”

“You’re keeping count?”

“Mmm.” He nodded with a grin and she sighed. “Oh, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Uh huh?”

“How did you meet Sarina and Michelle?”

“Oh, jeeze.” Now she’d have to tell him that she had tripped over them at the beach when they’d been children. He’d never let her live it down. The twins still hadn’t and she had known them half her life.

“Is it that embarrassing?”

“Yep.”

“You tripped over them didn’t you?” Amara nodded, her blush growing worse and he giggled. Honest to God, giggled like a little girl. He only laughed harder when she told him to shut up and flung a chip at him.

“I was thirteen,” she started when his cackling turned to quiet snickers. “It was the first warm-ish Saturday of the year and mom took me to the beach. She sat and graded papers in the shade while I walked up and down the sand collecting seashells and glass. Never knew why she’d rather grade papers than play on the beach. I still don’t know. Anyway, I’d probably walked half a mile, had my hands and pockets full of shells and sea glass. I was looking for more when I heard mom yelling for me. I knew I had gone too far and she couldn’t see me so I turned around and started running back. I was dodging people left and right, in too much of a hurry to really watch were I was going, and tripped right over Sarina and landed on Michelle.

My shells and glass flung up in the air and rained down on us. I got a little cut from a shell on my temple. You can still see the scar in the right light. Most of the shells and sea glass landed on their heads. And you know how I have that little tick where I laugh when bad stuff happens?” He nodded, looking completely engrossed in her story and she smiled. “Yeah, that happened. Mom found the three of us giggling like loons with sea shells scattered all around us. Sad thing is, she only rolled her eyes and went back to finish grading her papers. That’s how well she knows her kid. She didn’t even have to ask what happened. She just knew I’d tripped over them. Anyway, me and the twins hung out all day and we’ve been friends ever since. We always went to the beach every Saturday when it was warm enough and sometimes even when it wasn’t.”

“Why don’t you go anymore?”

She really didn’t want to tell him, but she knew he’d never stop asking. “Sarina, Michelle, and I were at the beach. We must’ve been around nineteen. There was this party some kids from college were throwing and there were some older kids there with some beer and stuff. I went walking by myself to get away from the noise and once I was far enough away I heard this dude talking and some weird noises so my dumb ass goes to investigate, totally horror flick stereotypical stuff, and he had some girl pinned down and was trying to . . . it was bad. I threw my beer bottle at his head and clocked him with it, but it didn’t knock him out. I ran like hell with him chasing me down the beach and the chick managed to get away. He tackled me and we got into a fight.”

“Did he?”

“No. No, baby, he didn’t. Neither one of us girls got hurt. I kneed him in the nuts as hard as I could with my bony little knee and he howled like a banshee while I ran away from him. I told the twins what happened and someone called the cops, but he was gone by the time they showed up and so was half of the party. Including me and the twins. Didn’t want to get tickets for underage drinking. I had nightmares for a long time after that. Mom never knew about it and I wouldn’t tell her. Anyway, I haven’t been back since.”

“You loved the beach, though.”

“I did, but he tainted it. It’s not the same anymore.”

“You shouldn’t let negative things change so much of your life, Amara.”

“It’s hard not to, Tommy.”

“Especially for you because you avoid the things that hurt you instead of trying to move past it. You let bad things that happened ruin your life, darling, it shouldn’t be that way.” Amara only nodded, not quite knowing what to say. “You’ve done it all of your life and that’s why you are the way you are. If you learn to move past things instead of pushing them away and hiding from them, the world would be so much brighter for you.”

“This is a bright spot. Isn’t it?” She motioned with her hand vaguely encompassing the two of them and their bench.

“Well, yes.”

“See? It’s getting brighter already.” She almost gagged at the sappy words she’d told him even though it caused him a happy smile. She couldn’t believe something that mushy had come out of her mouth. She held back a shudder and he laughed.

“You look disturbed, darling.”

“I’m fine.”

She looked away from him when the shade they were sitting in grew darker and gasped when the sky decided to dump on them. She jumped up and pulled the bag out from under his leg packing her barely touched lunch away and Tom only laughed turning his face up to the rain. She took his from him, packing it away as well and he looked to her with an indulgent smile. “Have you never sat in the rain?”

“No. Especially not while wearing a pale, very thin t-shirt. Come on, I want to go home. Where the hell did it even come from?” Tom laughed again letting her pull him from the bench. She dragged him back the way they had come until he stopped walking and she almost fell over when he pulled against her hand.

“Amara.”

“What?” She frowned turning to face him and reached up to push her wet hair away from her face.

Tom could only stare her. She looked beautifully irritated. A spark shone in her dark chocolate eyes that had him smiling. Drops of rain dripped from her eyelashes and her breaths shuddered in and out. Her shirt was quickly becoming soaked and he pulled off his jacket and held it out to her even though it would hide her from him. She gave him a weak smile then sat the bag that held the lunch on the ground and let him help her into the jacket. She closed her eyes with a sigh as she was enveloped in the warmth of the soft leather and the scent that always surrounded him. With the scent of rain and damp earth in the air it was almost overwhelming. He reached up pulling her wet hair over the collar and she looked up at him when his fingers stayed tangled in her hair.

“You’re getting wet, Thomas.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Your shirt is white.”

“And?”

“It’s um . . . clingy.” She trailed her eyes down from his face and bit her bottom lip when she saw just how clingy his shirt was. It was molded against him letting her see every muscle of his chest and stomach. She wanted to reach out and drag her hands over them. Over all of him. “We should go.” She moved to pull away from him and his fingers tightened in her hair, holding her still.

“Have you ever been kissed in the rain?” His words were little more than a whisper and Amara shook her head.

“Don’t be absurd. Of course I haven’t.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. Thomas, you’re being silly. Let’s go.” She started to turn again when his hands left her hair and gripped her waist. “Thomas!” Whatever she would say next was silenced when he tugged her against him and pressed his lips against hers. She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck, giving up on trying to distance herself from him. At least for the moment. His tongue swept across the seam of her lips and they parted with a quiet moan. His hands gentled on her hair then slid down to cup her neck. His thumbs gliding over her jaw, so gentle he was barely touching her. Probably he thought she’d run away.

She didn’t wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore. The thought terrified her even as she stood on tiptoe so he wouldn’t have to lean down so far. Her arms circled around him, holding him even closer as her mind swirled. She should be pushing him away. Turning and running the other direction. She wanted to stay, to let him hold her in the rain in the middle of the park. Hell she didn’t know what she wanted right now. To say that she was conflicted was an understatement.

When he finally pulled away she took a shuddering breath in as she dropped back onto her heels. Tom brushed his lips over her forehead as he threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair. His other hand was still on her neck, his thumb resting against her racing pulse.

“Was that so bad, darling?”

“Oh, you gorgeous jerk.” Amara rested her forehead against his chest, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. They were both soaked to the bone and she didn’t think her insane husband had any plans that involved leaving soon. She clutched at his t-shirt with a sort of desperation she’d never felt before and hated. She wasn’t like this. She didn’t sit on a park bench and share life stories. She didn’t stand around in the rain getting completely soaked. She didn’t kiss beautiful men in the rain or cling to them like she was drowning and they were the air she so desperately needed.

She was afraid of what was happening. Afraid of what she was feeling even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t feel anything for him beyond friendship. This was something beyond her control and she had only now realized just how far out of her element she really was. How could she bring herself back from this? Tears filled her eyes at the realization that she couldn’t run from this the way she normally would. She was going to run, she had to at some point. She had to get away from him before anything else happened, but how?

“You’re shaking.” Tom reached up, combing his fingers through her wet and tangled hair.

“Yes.” Was that her voice that sounded so pitiful?

“Are you crying?”

“No.” She sniffled and he sighed quietly, rubbing her back in small comforting circles as he rocked her gently back and forth.

“What’s the matter, darling?”

_Nothing. Everything._ “It hurts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always kudos, comments, etc. are very much loved and appreciated. ｡◕‿◕｡


	20. Slap A Band-Aid On It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little bit past Sunday, but in my defense I spent a little while in the ER Friday night/morning. I got a shot of something awesome in the ER and a prescription for muscle relaxers so yeah. Not fun, but I'll be okay. Saturday I was mostly sleeping and when I was awake I was in a slightly drugged stupor. Also it was the season/series premiere of Doctor Who which I did not get to enjoy due to my drugged stupor. Thankfully some genius invented the DVR. 
> 
> This chapter is a little bit short and undoubtedly has some mistakes in it. My apologies. The next chapter will be longer, I promise.

Amara’s tears had almost stopped by the time they got home and she knew Tom was wanting her to talk about it. She couldn’t bring herself to speak to him. She hadn’t said a word since she had called him a jerk in the park. She didn’t think he’d spoken since the park either. If he had spoken she didn’t hear a word of it. She was too lost in her thoughts. Trapped, it felt like. There had to be a way out. One that wouldn’t involve hurting him.

She knew regardless of what happened she would be hurt worst of all. Whatever decision she made would wind up tearing her apart and for once she couldn’t stand the thought. It hurt _now_ when she was just thinking about leaving. It hurt even worse when she thought about staying. How could she let him break down her walls? What would she be when they were gone? How much of her would be left?

God help her, she didn’t know what to do.

She jumped out of the car as soon as Tom parked and raced for the house, slipping and sliding on the slick ground.

“Amara!”

“Just let me in, Tommy.”

Tom ran after her and fumbled with his keys as he tried to unlock the door. She looked like she was having a full blown panic attack. Her breath was racing and had been since they had left the park. Tears filled her eyes, but didn’t fall as the others had. Her eyes were opened wide and her pupils were blown with her panic. When she put her hand over his to help with the keys, her skin was hot and her palm was damp with sweat. She was shaking far worse than she had in the park.

As soon as the door was open she rushed in and ran toward the stairs. He stepped in and punched in the security code before the alarm went off then went after her, barely swinging the door shut behind him. He heard the bedroom door slam and sighed heavily then went after her. Whatever was wrong, and he had some idea of what it was, she needed to calm down before she made herself sick. He found her door locked when he went to open it and sighed.

“Amara? Darling, let me in.” He could hear her gasping for breath and worried that she might faint. “Please.”

“Go . . . away . . . Thomas!” She was sobbing now and he couldn’t stand it.

Amara whimpered, sitting on the edge of her bed. She thought she might faint. She couldn’t breathe, felt like her lungs weren’t working. She knew she was having a panic attack, but she couldn’t get out of it. It would either run its course or she would faint. Whichever of those two things was going to happen, she wanted it to hurry up because Tom was probably freaking out. She knew he was or was going to and she didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want him to see her like this. She knew she was being stupid, but she couldn’t help it. It was too much. Whatever the hell had happened in the park had been too much.

One minute she’d been irritated because he’d rather stand there and play in the rain and the next he was kissing her senseless. Something inside her had broken, but she couldn’t for the life of her pinpoint what it was. Something vital to her sanity, she thought. It felt like her heart was breaking and she didn’t know why. Hell, she knew why, she just didn’t want to fucking admit it. It hurt too badly.

Tom reached up to the top of the door frame and grabbed the small metal key for the door. She needed help. Whatever had happened, whatever had caused this, she couldn’t do it alone. He wouldn’t let her be alone for this. Not when she was so obviously needed help. He unlocked the door and almost gasped when he saw her. His poor darling was huddled on her bed, curled up as tightly as possible and heartbreaking sobs shook her shoulders. Jesus, what had happened? Was it because he had kissed her in the park? It couldn’t be. He had kissed her before, although maybe not in the way he had kissed her less than half an hour ago. Even so, he wasn’t exactly sure what had caused this.

“Darling?”

“Go. Away.”

“I won’t.” He pocketed the small key then walked to her. She tensed when he reached for her and he shook his head. “We’re not doing that. I know you need your space, my love, but you’re not going to get it right now. Not when you’re hurting so badly.” He knelt beside the bed and took her hands in his. “You need to breathe, Amara.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes you can, love. Listen to me. Forget everything else but trying to breathe.” Amara nodded, gripping his hands tightly. “Breathe with me, baby. Take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds.” She nodded again taking a shuddering breath to his calm one. “Again.” He murmured when they breathed out.

By their tenth breath Amara’s had mostly evened out. She wasn’t shaking nearly as bad and her tears had slowed though they hadn’t stopped completely. Tom stared up at her from his place on the floor, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes and instead took great pains to avoid looking at him.

By the fifteenth, Amara had calmed and stopped crying. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Amara sighed heavily then closed her eyes and turned away from him. He let go of her hands when she pulled against his hold. “I want to be alone for a little bit, Tommy.”

“You’re sure you’re all right?” He knew he sounded more than a little bit skeptical. She nodded.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“You were having a panic attack.” Amara glared and he bit back a smile.

“I know that, Thomas.”

“Have you had them before?”

“Not in a long time.” She sighed and reached up comb her fingers through her hair. She winced when she caught a tangle then frowned at her husband as he stood. His shirt was still clinging to him obscenely and so were his jeans. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning. God he was gorgeous. “You’re still wet.”

He chuckled then reached down and tugged on the collar of his leather jacket. “So are you.”

“I know. I’m going to take a long hot bath in your fancy schmancy tub with lots and lots of bubbles.” Tom grinned at that and she gave him a weak smile as she peeled out of the wet leather and held it out to him. “The leather’s gonna shrink though.”

“It’ll be fine, darling. It’s a bit too big for you anyway.”

“I’m not going to keep your jacket.”

“Isn’t that what women do?” He asked with a cheesy grin. Amara only rolled her eyes at him and shoved the jacket into his arms.

“I wouldn’t know and you’re a geek. Go on.” She made a shooing motion with both hands and he laughed then leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“It frightened me, darling.”

“Frightened me too.”

It was only after Amara had filled the tub and sank into the steaming water that she had an epiphany. Or something close to one anyway. She was up to her nose in water and bubbles when she realized that her husband had been right. About all of it. She trusted herself even less than she trusted him. She could no longer trust herself not to get carried away with him. Tom hadn’t lied to her in any way since she’d met him. At least not that she had found out about. She was near certain at this point that he would do his best not to hurt her. She didn’t trust her heart anymore for damn sure. The thing had gotten her into a mess she wasn’t sure there was a way out of. That was the most frightening part.

That and finding out that he had realized that she did hide from things and push them away because they hurt too much if she didn’t. Maybe it was time to do that again. She had failed to do it since she had first tried to talk him into the annulment and now she was paying for it. She wiped away tears that had sneaked up on her and sighed. It was definitely time to do that again. She would slap a Band-Aid on whatever piece of her it was that had been hemorrhaging since her husband had broken her in the park and pretend that it never happened.

Tom sighed heavily as he stripped out of his wet clothes and tossed them to the floor with a wet plop. Whatever Amara was doing while soaking in her bath he knew it wouldn’t bode well for him. She was probably convincing herself to pretend that the park had never happened and would once again try to be her aloof self. Not that she managed to pull it off most of the time. He wouldn’t let her. Every time she tried it, he would make her see that being distant with him wasn’t a deterrent. It only made him try harder.

He climbed into the shower of the master bath and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. He stood under the spray, letting it rain down on him as he contemplated his relationship with his wife.

She was coming out of her shell, even in the scant days they’d spent together. Almost five now, even though they’d been married for two weeks. Something had happened to her when he had kissed her at the park; he just hadn’t been sure what. Granted he had kissed her in a way he had not done before, but he still wondered what exactly had happened to her. One moment she was fine, albeit mildly irritated, and the next she was crying and shuddering in his arms and telling him it hurt.

Had he managed to break down one of those infuriating walls she polished and shined so much? Had he chipped away at it until it had crumbled down leaving her exposed for the first time in years? If he had, if that was what had happened, she was most likely sitting in her bath trying to build it back up. He wouldn’t let her.

Tom didn’t want her hurt, would do anything to prevent it, but if she managed to build up her walls again he was certain he would lose her. If poking a little bit at the wound he had apparently made enabled him to get closer to Amara, he would do it. Gently, but he would still do it. He wouldn’t let her put a bandage on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always kudos, comments, etc. are very much loved and appreciated. (◕‿◕✿)


	21. No Time For Band-Aids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story will be progressing more soon. I realize it's a bit of a slow build. I'm steadily getting where I want to go with this and I'm having to heavily edit or completely re-write chapters that I had written previously so it's taking me a bit longer to update than what I'd like.
> 
> I'm sorry for any grammatical errors, I'm sure I've missed some when reading this over. I usually do. (^.^) 
> 
> If you see any screw ups, let me know and I'll fix them ASAP.

Amara spent the rest of the day trying to avoid her husband. She had pilfered through his bookshelves after her bath and wound up finding one of her favorite books and probably his as well as worn as the pages and binding were. She quickly put it back on the shelf when she saw his handwriting scribbled through it when she flipped through some of the pages and grabbed a hardback copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. He had several copies of Shakespeare’s writings and sonnets. Probably so he wouldn’t have to heft around the large hardback. The sonnets, she avoided completely because she was certain Tom would have scribbles all through them.

He had to have heard her rummaging through his books and she had sighed when he walked out of his bedroom and headed straight for her with a look of concern on his face. She only shook her head when he asked if she was alright and ran past him to her room to once again lock him out. If she’d been thinking she’d have remembered that he had a key to her door because he’d managed to unlock the door during her panic attack and hold her hands through it.

She hated that he’d seen her like that. Hated that he had helped her through it. She hadn’t asked for his concern and it only unnerved her. He had such compassion and gentleness to him that it scared her. No one, absolutely no one, was that sweet and caring for no reason. She knew what he wanted though. Or part of what he wanted anyway. She couldn’t even begin to fathom the reasons why.

Did he think she was that beautiful? Amara, while never considering herself to be ugly, had never thought she was beautiful. She was just herself and looked the way she looked. She was content with her looks and there was nothing she would change. Still though, did he think she was beautiful? And what did it matter if he did? She had no intentions of staying with him. Not more than a few more days. A week tops. Was there some facet of her personality that he enjoyed? Was he enamored with her snarky attitude? Her protective nature where her family was concerned? Not that it mattered. It totally didn’t matter.

Not wanting to worry more about it she hid in her room and read. She only came out of her room for dinner that evening because she knew he would grow concerned if she didn’t eat and she didn’t want more of his pity. She did the dishes afterward because she’d never felt that the cook should have to clean the mess afterward if they were cooking for someone else and went back to her room right after. Once again locking her door and praying that he would leave her to wallow in her misery and failed planning sessions.

She only saw him again that night when he burst into her room at three in the morning to wake her up from a nightmare that she could barely remember. Apparently she’d been screaming for him in her sleep. She denied it completely and refused to even tell him what she did remember of her dream. Anyway, the most she could remember of the nightmare was seeing flashes of his face while she was drowning and her screams bubbling through the dark water as something pulled her down.

He had held her in the dim light of the lamp he had fetched for her after the nightmare when she admitted she didn’t want the light on, only because she didn’t want him to see her crying once again, but didn’t want the room to be completely dark either. He had placed the lamp on the floor next to her closet then sat next to her and pulled her into his arms. When she had calmed and stopped shuddering and clinging to him she let him lay her down and she immediately curled around her pillow, putting her back to him, whispering a quiet thank you as he pulled the comforter back over her. He had even dug her Adipose plush out of her suitcase and given it to her to hold. She wasn’t even sure how he had known she’d brought it with her. He sat next to her until she fell back to sleep and she had the sneaking suspicion that he had watched her through most of the night, wanting to be there in case she had another nightmare.

When the twenty-eight year old woke late the next morning the lamp was still on, the soft light almost swallowed by the sun shining through her window. She knew she hadn’t opened the curtains and figured Tom had done it during the night when she was hysterical from her nightmare or after she’d fallen asleep. She let out a heavy sigh as she sat up then combed her fingers through her hair in a half-assed attempt to straighten it out. She wondered if he was at rehearsals yet so she’d have time to think about things. The house was quiet; she didn’t hear any of the telltale signs of life. Probably he was still sleeping.

She found out moments later when she had pulled her robe on over her pajamas, not bothering to belt it, and left the room in search of coffee. She met him in the corridor as he walked out of his room and he gave her a gentle smile.

“Are you alright, darling?” he rubbed his hands up and down her arms as his blue eyes glittered with thinly veiled concern.

“Yeah. I’m okay, Tommy.” She gave him a reassuring smile and he nodded then took her hand and walked her down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Did you sleep well? No more nightmares?” Amara sighed as he started making their coffee.

“I guess so, yeah.” She combed her fingers through her hair before tucking her bangs behind her ears. “Thank you, by the way. For . . .  for yesterday and last night. For staying with me.”

“You’re welcome, love.” He kissed the top of her head as he walked past her to get the cream and sugar.

“I mean it. You didn’t have to.”

“I know. I wanted to. I can’t stand to see you hurting.” He kissed her again on his way back by and she laughed quietly as she swatted him away.

“Anyone ever tell you that you are a very dangerous man?”

“How do you mean?”

“You’re sweet. Almost syrupy, but not quite. It wreaks havoc on women’s emotional states, especially first thing in the morning after having a nightmare.”

“Well then. I’ll just have to keep that in mind.” He winked at her making her laugh and he grinned turning back to the coffee maker.

“What time do rehearsals start, baby? You’re not running late are you?”

“No, I’ve plenty of time.”

“You start in the middle of the day?”

“No, I go in tomorrow.”

“Thomas, you told me yesterday that rehearsals were today.”

“I didn’t say I had rehearsals today. Just that there were some today.” Amara frowned at him and he chuckled.

“You’re an ass.” He only laughed more instead of being offended and she rolled her eyes as he poured their coffees. He sat hers down in front of her and she gave him a small smile of thanks as she reached for the cream and sugar. “So when do you actually go in?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

 _Shit._ So much for having time to think today. She knew that after yesterday he would be glued to her hip, hovering over her to make sure she was all right. Which she was. For the most part. She was pretty sure she needed to change her Band-Aid and maybe add a couple more after what had happened with her nightmare and him comforting her for half of the night. How the hell would she be able to do that with him clinging to her? She’d have to figure it out and soon. Another day like yesterday and she’d be doomed if she didn’t get her shit straight.

Tom watched his wife frowning in her coffee and knew she was irritated with him because he had chosen to stay home and be with her instead of going into rehearsals early like he normally would have done. She was trying to devise a way to be done with him for the day, he was pretty sure. Well, that and trying to figure out some way to patch whatever part of her he had managed to get through to in the park. Her walls were weakening and he knew she would start fighting harder against whatever he would do. He would have to be cautious about what he did from here on out. One wrong move could push her away completely.

“Do you have plans today, baby?”

“I thought we’d stay in today. I figured you’d want to after what happened yesterday.”

Amara nodded then took a sip of her coffee. “If you want to go do something don’t let me stop you, Tommy. I’m probably just gonna hang out in my room and read.”

Tom nodded. There was no probably about it. That was exactly what his darling wife was going to do. She was going to do her best to hide from him and not let him see how affected she was by him. By the things he did for her. Maybe he should let her have some time. Let her get her head straightened out. That might bode ill for him, but he knew that things would be alright. Besides, if he let her hide from him it would make it seem like she wasn’t being pressured as much and she would relax even further around him than she already had.

He hid his smile behind his coffee mug then moved to stand closer to his wife. “Do you want breakfast, love?”

“No, thank you. I can’t eat this soon after waking up. It makes me ill. I’m always queasy in the mornings when I wake up.” He nodded then leaned against the table, planting himself as close to her as he could get without being wrapped around her. “I’m gonna go read.” Amara tried to tell herself she wasn’t hiding from him but the little voice in her head that had gotten her into this mess to begin with called ‘bullshit’. She kissed Tom’s cheek then fled to the safety of her room.

Tom chuckled quietly after he heard her bedroom door close much more quietly than he thought it would have with the way she practically ran out of the kitchen. He shook his head then turned to the table and picked up one of the scripts he had been reading and took it with him into the living room. Might as well get something done since he couldn’t be with his wife at the moment.

Hours later Tom had finished reading the script, making notes of things he liked and disliked about it, sent a few emails he’d been neglecting to send, and made lunch. Amara had to be starving by now as she hadn’t eaten since she had picked at her dinner the day before. He carried a plate with a sandwich and crisps and a bottle of water on a tray, balancing it carefully as he walked up the stairs. When he got to her door he tapped once then unlocked it with the key, figuring she would ignore him if he only knocked. He found his wife slouched against the headboard, barely propped up with her pillow, and completely asleep with a book lying across her stomach.

Tom smiled softly as he shook his head then walked across the room and sat the tray on the nightstand. “Silly girl. How many times have you fallen asleep like this?” He moved the book, sitting it next to the tray, then slid his arms under her and scooted her down the bed. He pulled the sheet over her, smiling when he saw that her Adipose still lying next to her. Amara rolled over onto her side with a quiet sigh and immediately sought out the Adipose. She curled around it and he chuckled quietly as he smoothed her hair back from her face.

“Tommy.” She cracked open her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

“Read to me.” She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling it close to her.

He still couldn’t get over how cuddly she was when she was tired. “I thought you were avoiding me today?”

“I forgot. Go away.” She sighed, her eyes slipping closed as she let go of his hand, and he laughed quietly then leaned down and kissed her temple.

“Go back to sleep, I know you didn’t sleep well.”

“Lay down with me.”

“You just told me to go away.”

“Conflicted.”

“I noticed that.” He chuckled quietly and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand automatically moving to her sable colored hair and combing through it with his fingers. He loved her hair. It was so thick and as soft as silk. He was glad she wasn’t pulling it away from him as she had done before. Again it must have been because she was tired. She had been tired when she rested her head on his thigh and let him comb his fingers through it while they had watched their movie.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you always so nice to me?”

“I’m nice to everyone.”

“Yeah but . . .” She trailed off with a quiet yawn and then sighed. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve it. Not with all the stuff running through my head.”

“What stuff?”

“Just stuff.”

“Everyone deserves being nice to.”

“You’re too trusting, Thomas. Some people deserve nothing but a swift kick in the ass.” Herself included.

“Are you going to lecture me as well?”

“Who lectured you on that?”

“My parents, my sisters, Luke, my management.”

“They love you, Thomas. They only want to make sure you’re not going to be hurt.”

“I know. Well, that and they want to make sure that this won’t look badly in the papers.”

“No avoiding it unless you give me an annulment.” He started to back away from her and she sighed. “I didn’t intend for that to sound as mean as it did.”

“You still want us to get our marriage annulled?”

 _Yes. No. Maybe._ She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t know anymore. She didn’t want him to realize just how frightened of him she was. She wanted him to be mad. To get pissed off at her enough to let her go. She didn’t think he would do it. He might get mad at her at some point and she would probably deserve it, but she didn’t think he would let her go even then. She was certain some part of him was already thinking it was in love with her. That was almost as frightening as the thought that some extremely small part of her might care more for him than what she realized.

“Darling?”

Tom frowned when her mobile began to play a song that was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t remember the name of it or the artist, and she scrambled to grab her phone saving her from having to answer him. He thought he knew the answer to his question anyway. She still wanted the annulment. She still wanted rid of him. He wasn’t exactly sure why it hurt his feelings so much. Yes, he did love her and he barely knew her, but it didn’t seem to make a difference where his heart was concerned.

He was too trusting and he had been hurt in the past because of it, but he thought this time was different. He had seen how protective Amara was of the people she cared about. He didn’t think she would hurt him. Not purposely. She would and it seemed she did go out of her way to keep from hurting the ones she loved. So much so that she hurt herself in an effort to avoid hurting anyone else. Would she do that with him? Would she hurt herself in order to save him from some pain?

He broke from his thoughts as she scramble from the bed with her mobile still held to her ear. She rushed to the closet and grabbed her carry-on and pulled her laptop from it. “Give me a minute.” Amara hit the power button then moved back to the bed and sat down. “Tommy, gimme internet.” She thrust the laptop into his hands and he sighed then sat next to her on the bed.

“What’s the matter?”

“Something we have to see. Michelle and Sarina say it’s urgent.”

“No, we said it was a fucking emergency.”

He almost smiled hearing Sarina’s voice over the line as he typed in his password for his wireless. As soon as it was connected Amara took the laptop from him and handed him her mobile. He put it to his ear as he sighed.

“Tom?”

“Yep.”

“She’s going to freak out. Please don’t let her do anything stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’ll want to go for a walk or need to get some air and run outside. Don’t let her because if you do you’ll never see her again.” This was from Michelle and he sighed combing his fingers through his hair.

“What is going on?”

“Don’t let her go, Tom. Take care of her.” He didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t hear the double meaning in Sarina’s words.

“I will, just tell me what is going on.”

“Go look. Call us if you need anything.” The twins disconnected from their call and he sat Amara’s phone down on the bed.

“What is it darling?” Amara only turned the laptop so he could see whatever it was she was staring at with shock in her eyes. On the screen she had a window open to her email that had a blue link highlighted with her pointer hovering over it. “What is that?”

“Michelle and Sarina say it’s us.”

“Us?”

“Fish and Chips.”

“Shit.” He reached over and clicked the link, unable to help himself. It opened to a page on tumblr that had several pictures of himself and Amara at Bailey’s and then at the park. Their wedding rings were visible in most of them and he bit his bottom lip and turned to his wife. “Amara.”

“They know. The whole damned planet knows now. They know we’re married. They know you took me for fish and chips and they saw our rings, Tommy!” She was on the verge of panicking and was trying desperately not to. She reached over and scrolled down the page where there were pictures of him and her sitting on the bench, talking and eating and then pictures of the kiss that had broken her. “The park.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I . . . I can’t do this. I need some air.” She stood and instead of running from the room like he expected her to she walked to the window and slid it open. She was hanging halfway out of it, looking like she was fixing to fall, as she took several gulps of air. He sighed sitting her laptop on the bed then stood and walked to her.

“It’s not ideal right now; I’ll give you that much, darling.” He rubbed his hand over her back in an effort to soothe her. “But it’s not the end of the world.”

“You said no one would bother us.”

“And they didn’t.”

“Well, no, but people still saw us.”

“People saw us at the airport as well.”

“But now they know!”

“They were going to find out eventually, my love. Did you expect me to hide you away from the rest of the world as if I were ashamed of you?”

“I don’t know. God, I don’t know. I can’t fix this. There’s no way to patch this up. I can’t . . . this can’t be fixed.” She stood suddenly, pulling away from him and the window to pace the room. There was no possible fucking way she could patch it up. She would not be able to avoid this. She wouldn’t be able to push it away and pretend it hadn’t happened. There was nothing she could do, just as there was nothing she could do about the way she felt about her husband. Nothing she could do about their marriage except hope and pray her stubborn spouse would give her an annulment.

Although . . . maybe she could spin this. She nodded to herself. It was certainly possible it would even work. All she had to do was let him see how completely terrified she was of them being public now. If she couldn’t deal with the press that had surely gotten ahold of the pictures by now, especially since they were apparently all over tumblr, and she couldn’t deal with whoever else important to him might find out, maybe he would finally let her go. Maybe he would pity her enough that he would give her the annulment and let her go home. It was the perfect plan. She nodded again, hiding the smile that threatened. It would have to work.

Or it would completely backfire on her and he would only hold her closer and try to protect her. She frowned at the tiny voice that kept trying to get her screwed over. It kept rearing its ugly little head and she hated to admit that sometimes it was right. It was in Tom’s nature to do so. To protect her and care for her. She was his damsel as much as she hated to admit it and he was her white knight. Whether she wanted him to be or not. This damsel wanted to save herself and the knight was only getting in her way.

Tom watched her pacing, saw her nodding and shaking her head. She was once again having some internal dialogue that would not be good for him. She was working out some plan and while he had some idea that it involved trying to bury her feelings and panic about the pictures it wasn’t the entire plan. He wouldn’t like it, whatever it was, he was sure. She definitely still wanted to get the annulment now. He was sure of it. He wouldn’t let her go. He would protect her as much as he was able. Whether she wanted him to protect her or not.

None of their personal life was anyone’s business and he would try to keep her out of the public eye as much as possible, even while trying to con her into dates and spending time with him. She would at some point have to get used to being out with him in public and learn not to care what people wrote about them. Maybe not get used to it, but at least learn to tolerate being in the public eye. He just hoped he could help her understand that they could still be themselves out in public and it didn’t matter what anyone said or did.

He sat back on the bed and picked up the laptop to look at the pictures. Whoever had taken them had been good with the camera and even though it was an invasion of privacy the pictures of them in the park looked like they had posed for them with a professional photographer. Of course there wasn’t much privacy in a public park. “Amara?” She was still pacing and had begun to mutter under her breath. “Amara? Amarantha!” He raised his voice and she jolted like she’d been electrocuted.

“What?”

“Sit down, darling, and look at these with me.” Maybe he could show her how good the pictures were and how well matched the two of them looked, sitting on their bench and then kissing in the rain. Maybe she would like them if she wasn’t concentrating on how bad she thought it was that they had been seen together. She did like their wedding photo after all.

“I don’t want to see them, Thomas. I already saw them.”

“You saw them, but you didn’t see what I see.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sit down, love.”

Amara sighed heavily then sat next to her husband and leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. “What do you see?”

“These are actually very good pictures, Amara. Look at this one.” Amara resisted the urge to roll her eyes and looked down at the laptop screen. She and Thomas were sat on the bench, their food containers in hand. Tom was laughing and she was in the middle of throwing a chip at him. He scrolled to the next picture and Amara saw that they were both smiling at each other. They almost looked posed. The next was Amara packing their food away as it began to rain. The next after that was of Tom helping her into his leather jacket. She knew what the next would be and almost hated to see it when he scrolled down. Tom’s hands were on her hips, holding her close. His lips were pressed to hers and her arms were wrapped around his neck as she stood on tip toe while the rain fell around them. It looked . . . right. It looked like they were in love and didn’t give a damn who saw that they were. The next picture was Tom holding her as she cried. Thankfully her face was buried against his chest where you couldn’t see that she was crying in the picture.

“They really are good pictures, sweetheart.”

“They are, Tommy, but I still don’t like that a ton of people have seen them. If it was just for us it would be different. We do look content with each other though, don’t we?”

“We do. Are you done panicking over them?”

“For now.” _Externally at least._

“Will you be alright?”

“Yeah.” _Eventually. Hopefully. Maybe._ “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I always am.” And wasn’t that the biggest lie she’d ever told?

“We should save these and have them printed.”

“Why don’t you just email the chick or whoever put them up and ask for the originals while you’re at it?” She was being sarcastic but could tell by the way he tensed in surprise for a second then started typing like mad that she’d only given him another idea. One day she would manage to keep her mouth shut and stop giving him ideas. It was how she'd gotten into this mess to begin with.


	22. Quicksand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so terribly sorry that it has taken me this long to update. I've been having to deal with some not so awesome personal stuff that has made me unable to concentrate on this as much as I would have liked to. There is a relatively small possibility that I will have to take a short hiatus from this and I will let you all know if that has to happen. 
> 
> I also apologize in advance for any grammatical errors as I am near certain there are a few that I missed.

Amara had given up on getting Tom to let go of the photos. He had managed to convince the people who had posted them and then the person who had taken the photos to send him copies of the originals. Which involved a lot of swearing that he was indeed Tom and then taking a picture holding a piece of paper with a silly message on it. Amara thought he should have raised hell with them for invading their privacy to begin with but he didn’t seem to be as upset about the pictures as she was which she found to be beyond irritating. Irritating her seemed to be something he enjoyed doing. She just couldn’t figure out why he enjoyed it so much.

When she had seen him open the files from an email address he had set up especially for the pictures she had had to go back to hanging out of the window for air. She would have rather gone for a walk and taken her things with her to go back home. Her terror about being seen in public again nixed that idea and that was the reason for hanging out of the bedroom window. She didn’t think she’d ever leave the house again unless it was when Tom took her to the airport to let her go home.

“What do we do?” She asked quietly when he had copied the pictures to a flash drive.

“About what?”

“Thomas.” She glared at him and he only smiled.

“We go on with our lives, Amara. You can’t hide away forever, even if that is what you’d rather do. If you let the world know it bothers you then it will only become worse. If you pretend it doesn’t and go on with your life then it will eventually lessen. It will get better.”

“If you say so, but I’m still going to hide from everyone. For a little while at least. I don’t want to be a walking advertisement for Vegas marriages.” Tom laughed, the dorky chuckle that she loved and found adorable and she smiled. God, did she really love it and think it was adorable? She was sinking lower and lower. He was her quicksand, she decided. The more she struggled the faster she sank. There was no lifeline for her to hold onto. No rope that would pull her out. The only rope she could find seemed to be the one that Tom had tied around her ankles and used to pull her deeper.

“Sweetheart, no one knows the circumstances behind our marriage except for the twins, Luke, my family and my management.”

“So like thirty people. The more people that know about it, the more chances there are for someone to find out.”

“You’re being overdramatic again.”

“You might be used to your face being plastered all over the place, but I’m not and I never will be.”

“This will blow over.”

“When? How? How are we going to work things out between us when we can’t even leave the house without some jerk taking pictures of us? I’m sure there are some pictures from the airport or from Vegas floating around that we don’t know about yet. What happens when people find out that we were drunk off our asses at three in the morning when we got married? That you went through about twenty rings before you picked ours out? That you’re such a sap you got our wedding date engraved on the inside? That we’d only known each other for a day?”

“I don’t know.”

“See? You don’t know and I sure as hell don’t know. This isn’t realistic, Thomas. You don’t . . . you’ve got responsibilities to all these people and doing something crazy like marrying someone you don’t know and bringing her into your home doesn’t exactly scream that you’re a mature adult that takes it seriously. I could be a psychotic ax murderer for all you know.”

“Are you?”

“Of course not.”

“See? It’s fine. But I am only responsible for myself, Amarantha. For you, now.”

“Thomas, you are not responsible for me. You don’t have to care for me. You don’t have to furnish me with anything. You don’t buy my clothes or pay my bills. That’s not to say you wouldn’t if you wanted to. I know you would if I would ever let you, but I won’t.”

“Amara,” He stood and reached for her and she shook her head, backing away from him.

“I won’t. You would give me so much of yourself but I can’t let you. I won’t let you.”

“I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.” He thought he had murmured it quietly enough that she wouldn’t hear it, but Amara jerked as if she’d been slapped then turned and walked out of her room without another word. He sighed heavily then went after her. “Amara. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it?” She asked as she took the stairs two at a time. “How could you mean it any other way than how it’s meant? Am I that much of a bitch? Do I treat you with that much disdain that you would quote that at me?”

“You know you’re not and you don’t. I only meant that you had been hurt and would rather . . .”

“Hear my dog bark at a crow.” She snapped, interrupting him, as she spun around to stare up at him from the bottom of the stairs.

“Beatrice hid her pain and herself behind being a sarcastic, mouthy, pain in the ass. You do the same thing. You would rather pretend you don’t care. That you wouldn’t care if someone told you that they were in love with you. You would misconstrue everything they try to do for you. You’re cynical, darling.”

“I’m not cynical. I merely understand the way the world works and it always does the complete opposite of what should be done.”

“Take a chance for once, sweetheart.”

“I did, Tommy. I said yes. I said ‘I do’. I agreed to this . . .” She waved her hand indicating him and the house, “whatever the hell this is. I came here knowing there was the potential for one or the both of us to be hurt and I can’t take any more chances. The ones I’ve already taken hurt too fucking badly and I can’t . . .” _Do this._ “I can’t let you ruin yourself.” With that she turned and walked across the living room and then to the door. She had to get away from him before she confessed anything else that was emotionally damning.

“You’ve still got your pajamas on.” He told her when she opened the door.

“I’m only going to the back yard.”

She shut the door behind her and he practically ran to the windows to make sure she wasn’t trying to run away. He saw her looking completely pissed off, but he didn’t know if she was pissed off at him or herself as she stomped through the side yard. She did take the time to look down at the flowers that grew there though. He didn’t know if she noticed him or not as he followed her, watching her every move through the windows. When she reached the back yard he thought her heard sniffles from her but he couldn’t be sure until he saw her wipe tears from her eyes when she crouched down to look at the tea roses his mother had had planted when he moved into the house.

Sarina and Michelle had sworn that Amara would hurt herself before she hurt Tom and he was starting to believe it. Amara spent so much time trying to be strong, trying to be cold and distant, that she didn’t realize how badly she was hurting herself. She didn’t seem to understand how badly she could hurt other people by hurting herself. Maybe she didn’t realize she was hurting other people by doing what she did. “Fuck.” He threaded his fingers through his hair in frustration.

He didn’t know what he was going to do with her. About her. He wanted to show her how much he cared for her, but every time he showed her any bit of kindness she reacted badly. He thought she mostly couldn’t help it. There was a small piece of him that thought she was doing it on purpose to push him away. Even though he had told her she wasn’t that much of a bitch and didn’t treat him with disdain he had only told her that to avoid hurting her feelings.

Honestly she wasn’t that much of a bitch, but she did have her bitchy moments. Everyone did really. But the disdain?  She may not realize she was doing it, but she did treat him disdainfully at times. He knew it was because she was scared, but even so that didn’t give her the right to treat him or anyone else that way.

How the hell was he going to show her how much he cared when she wouldn’t let him? And what had she meant by not letting him ruin himself? Did she think she was so damaged that she would only hurt him? Or did she mean that she wouldn’t let ruin himself by being seen with her? Or had she meant the details of their wedding would make him look bad and ruin his career? His darling, paranoid, wife could have meant it all.

He heard her muttering to herself and moved to the back window, watching her through the curtains. She was pacing once again and he sighed then reached over and unlocked the back door so she wouldn’t have to walk back around front. He bit his bottom lip wondering if he should go outside and try to talk to her or just leave her be. “Fuck it.” He opened the door and Amara jumped when she saw him step out onto the grass.

“What the hell are we going to do, Tommy?”

“I don’t know.” She spun away from him to pace again and he shook his head and walked to the roses she’d been crouched over. He pinched one of the blooms off then stood and walked to her. “We’ll be all right, darling. I know this is difficult for you. It’s going to take some time to get used to all of this.”

“We don’t have enough time.”

“We have all the time in the world.”

“We have two weeks, Tom.” She gave him a grim smile. “To get the annulment I mean and I think . . . maybe Luke was right. Maybe we shouldn’t wait until a divorce is necessary.”

“Agreeing to work things out doesn’t mean immediately filing for the annulment, Amara.” He gave her a weak smile as he scraped the thorns off of the rose stem with a thumbnail.

“I know. I just . . . it’s what I’ve wanted since day one. Or what I thought I wanted. I don’t . . . I don’t know what I want anymore and I’m sort of freaking out because of it. I want to go home, but I want to stay. I want the annulment, but I don’t. I just . . . I had plans and now I . . .” She trailed off shaking her head and he knew she was berating herself for admitting something to him that she deemed was a weakness. He tried to hide his smile over the fact that she didn’t know what she wanted anymore. While it wasn’t a positive yes to anything it was better than the absolute no that she had started out with.

“You had plans and now you’re having to reevaluate. You’re having to take an honest look at the situation and yourself. I think it’s something you’ve never done before.” He reached up and slid the stem of the pink rose behind her ear, tucking her hair behind it.

She reached up, the tips of her fingers gently brushing over the petals, then took his hand in hers and brushed her lips over his fingers in an automatic gesture that she almost winced at. What the hell was happening to her? She was scared shitless. All he had to do was something silly like tuck a rose behind her ear and she wanted to both throw herself into his arms and run the other direction.

“There are a lot of things I haven’t done before. This is all new territory for me and I’m scared.”

“I know, darling. Come along. I’ll read to you. You can take your mind off of things for a little bit.”

“No Shakespeare right now.” He laughed then led her back into the house, stopping long enough to close and lock the door behind them. “Do you have a little vase, Tommy? I want to put my rose in it.”

“I should have. Somewhere.”

Amara woke the next morning to an alarm blaring from the nightstand next to her bed. She reached over slapping for whatever was making the noise and realized it was Tom’s phone. She picked it up; blinking at the time then slid her thumb across the screen to shut the alarm off then sat his phone back on the nightstand, sighing when lanky arms tightened around her.

“Why are you still in my bed?”

“We were reading to each other.”

“Yeah.”

“We fell asleep.”

“Uh huh.”

“You are exceptionally cuddly when you’re tired, sweetheart.”

“You’re comfy.” She snuggled closer to him and he laughed. “Why the alarm?”

“Work.”

“Oh. I’d forgotten.” Thank God he had to go to work. She needed the peace and quiet. She needed the time away from him, even if it was only a few hours while he was rehearsing. She had some thinking to do and some decisions to make. “What time do you have to be there?”

“A couple hours. I thought I’d make you breakfast before I leave.” He lifted his head from her shoulder and blue eyes met dark chocolate.

“I don’t eat in the mornings, Tommy.”

“You’ll eat this morning, love. You only had coffee yesterday.” He did the thing with his eyebrow. The one that could make him look so sarcastic or so endearingly innocent depending on the situation and she gave him a weak smile.

“Just toast and coffee?”

“We’ll see.” He gave her a quick kiss then untangled himself from her and climbed off of the bed.

“This won’t be an every night thing, Thomas.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her then walked out of the bedroom with a laugh when she threw her pillow at him.

An hour and a half later Amara was watching her husband walking through the house looking for his script for Coriolanus. She hadn’t seen it in the few days they had been home and she was betting it was in his luggage. He had probably taken it with him to read on the flight. She should have told him it might be there, but she was enjoying him running around the house in only a pair of black sweats and a tight almost threadbare blue V-neck t-shirt.

He stopped in front of the couch, staring down at his feet as he rubbed the back of his neck then scratched at his throat. “I had the fucking thing.”

“Did you take it with you when you hunted me down? It might be in your luggage?”

“Ah.” He grinned then gave her a quick kiss. “You’re brilliant.” She laughed watching him run up the stairs and nearly sighed. God he had a perfect ass. He came back down moments later carrying a rucksack and having put on a pair of sneakers. A bound stack of papers was in his hand. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back later, darling.”

“Okay.”

“You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m going to read a bit. Probably call Sarina and Michelle and let them know that we’re okay. Maybe walk around the back yard. The roses need weeding.”

“You’ll still be here when I get back?”

Did he have to ask her that? Granted she wasn’t planning on leaving right this minute, but there was no telling what she would decide to do between now and whatever time he would be getting home. She was betting he wouldn’t get home until late and she would have plenty of time to talk herself out of staying with him. Or talk herself into staying. She still wasn’t sure about any of this. “Yeah, I’ll be here. I promise.” She added when he looked less than convinced. He nodded then gave her a gentle kiss.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll be late if I wait any longer. Lo . . .  I’ll see you later, darling.” He kissed her again to interrupt whatever it was she was going to say then ran out of the front door, barely swinging it shut behind him.

Christ he’d almost told her he loved her. He groaned as he headed down the sidewalk. What would she have done then? She’d have run off. He knew it. As it was she was probably sitting on the couch staring off into space as she tried to convince herself that she needed to leave. He was tempted to turn around and head back to the house, but she had promised him she would stay and so far she hadn’t broken any of her promises to him. He trusted her to wait for him more than he thought she would do anything drastic.

Amara was sat on the couch, blinking at the mantle of the fireplace. Surely Tom hadn’t been about to tell her he loved her. She knew he didn’t. There was no possible way you could love someone you’d only known for two weeks. Maybe it was just force of habit that he had almost said it to her. Just an automatic phrase. Like when you tell your best friend you love them when you’re ending a phone call. Like a ‘love you’ and then you hang up. Or throwing it over your shoulder when you leave your mom’s. Or maybe he was going to tell her something like ‘Look, you better fucking be here when I get home.’ Anything else than that frightened her more than anything had up to this point.

Once she was certain he wasn’t going to walk back into the house she sighed and went back upstairs to her room to get her cell so she could call the twins. They were probably worried about her. She dialed Michelle’s number forgetting that it was a few hours earlier at home and the twins were most likely asleep.

Michelle answered after the third ring, sounding like she hadn’t been to sleep yet. “Hey, you alright?”

“I guess so. I mean I’m not panicking overly much and I didn’t leave him so yeah.”

“That’s good.”

“I don’t know what it is yet.”

“You two looked pretty cozy in those pictures.” Jinx groaned making Michelle laugh. “You two look happy together. You looked scared as shit outside the fish and chips place, but in the park you were relaxed and you actually looked happy. We haven’t seen you happy in a long time, Am.”

“I’ve been happy.”

“No, you’ve been content. Or at least pretending to be content. With Tom you look better and you sound better. A little stressed, but better. And Jesus, you guys looked so happy just sitting with each other.” Michelle couldn’t help but gush over it a little bit. Even with Amara sounding like she wanted to come home. Which could only mean one thing. She was falling for Tom. If she wasn’t she wouldn’t sound the way she did.

“I guess. He’s great to hang out with. When we’re just hanging out. Not when he’s trying to worm his way into a relationship with me.”

“What were you two laughing about?”

“He asked how I met you and Sarina.” Michelle busted up laughing and Amara groaned.  “Shut up.”

“Ah, it’s priceless.”

“Bitch.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway he asked and I told him. He uh . . . he also asked why I don’t go to the beach anymore.”

“Did you tell him? Is that why you were crying in the park?”

“Yeah, I did. And no, I’ve dealt with that. It was just . . . I don’t know what happened.”

“Were you crying because he wants to be in a relationship with you? He wants to work things out?” _And you want to be with him?_ Michelle didn’t say that part out loud. She knew Amara would deny it completely and start throwing a fit saying that she didn’t care about Tom and she never would and she didn’t even know why she was there in the first place except to hopefully get their marriage ended.

“I wasn’t crying.” _Shit. Fuck._ Were there pictures that she and Tom hadn’t seen where it was obvious she was crying? If so there was no telling what people were saying about them.

“Amara, we’ve known each other half of our lives. I can tell when you’re lying and I can tell when you’ve been crying and the way you were wrapped around him like that with your head against his chest? The only way you’d do that is to hide the fact that you had been crying.”

“He knew I was crying.”

“But you didn’t want anyone else to see just in case there was someone who might see you guys. Why were you crying?”

“I don’t know exactly.” She didn’t want to have this conversation. Not again. “I gotta go. Mom’s calling.”

“You gonna tell her where you’re at?”

“Nope. And you’re not either. Love ya.” Amara ended the call, mashing her thumb against the screen harder than necessary then tossed her phone onto the couch beside her. So much for maybe feeling better after talking to one of the twins.

Michelle frowned at her phone. She had a fairly decent idea as to why Amara had been crying in the park. Tom had probably managed to break through her walls and Amara didn’t know how to react to that. So far no one since Ville had been able to do it. The fact that it was Tom, and Amara knew who he was publicly, probably didn’t sit well with her.

“She’s in love with him isn’t she?” Sarina asked out of nowhere. Michelle nodded, used to her sister popping in out of nowhere.

“She’ll come home when she realizes it. She’s going to hurt him whether she wants to or not.”

“He won’t make it easy on her if she does try to run away. Hell, he barely knew her and practically demanded that they stay married and she go to London with him.”

“I’m worried for her.”

“She’ll be alright.

“She always is, right?” Michelle muttered with a frown. They both knew that Amara was anything but alright.

Sarina sighed then sat next to her twin. “We can’t interfere. Overly much. Just a nudge here and there. I know he’d be good for her if she’d let him.”

“You’ve been saying that, but I can’t help but think he’s not going to be the best thing for her. She’s going to get hurt and I mean . . .  what do any of us really know about him?”

“It doesn’t matter what we know. It matters what Amara knows.”

“I hope you’re right, ‘Rina.”

“I’m always right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always kudos and comments are very much loved and appreciated and make my day better. (◕‿◕✿)


	23. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, not going on hiatus, because a lot of people go on hiatus and never come back and I don't want to do that. So just possibly extended times between updates, but I will continue to update as much as I am able. I'm plotting and planning though and have a fair bit of notes. I just have to get them into order and be able to sit down and expand on them. Wish me luck.
> 
> Please forgive any mistakes and grammatical errors I'm sure I have missed.

Amara spent the better part of the day talking herself into and out of staying until the month was up. She would only stay as long as necessary and then she would sit him down and tell him that she cared about him, but staying married just wasn’t the right thing to do at this point in her life. It sounded as crap as she thought it did, but she still hadn’t managed to think of a way to make him let her go.

She did, however, manage to reapply her Band-Aid and slap a few more on. No matter how Tom acted or what he told her there was no possible way he meant any of it. He barely knew her, she hadn’t give him much of an option otherwise, and you did not become emotionally involved with people that you barely knew. You could maybe care about them as friends, but anything more than that just wasn’t possible or realistic. She was certain of it.

She pretended not to notice the fact that her heart had filled with dread when she had taken off her wedding rings to once again pack them away. When she had slipped the rings back on her finger the weight of them had comforted her. She was pretending that she kept them on just to keep from having to talk to him about it.

By the time he had sent her a text to see if she wanted him to bring dinner home she had managed to mostly get her head on straight and tell her heart to stop fucking around. She was the calmest she had been since realizing she was married. She had only managed to calm herself because she refused to admit anything and was content to live in denial. She could do that. She could rebuff anything he did and pretend that none of it mattered.  If only to keep from letting him break down her walls. She had needed an industrial sized bucket of spackle and a shit load of Band-Aids to cover the cracks and crevices, but she had managed.

Amara had even managed to let him know she would cook dinner for him if he wanted and had raided his cabinets and fridge for something to cook after he said he would like it if she would cook dinner for him. She decided to go a little bit vegetarian and made pasta with a roasted cherry tomato sauce that was more of a salad than anything else. It had yellow and red cherry tomatoes, basil, parsley, a teeny bit of crushed red pepper and was sprinkled with a bit of crumbled Feta. She didn’t know what she would have done if he hadn’t had any fresh veggies or herbs in the fridge. She had also found a small wedge of parmesan and a couple zucchini and baked parmesan crusted zucchini chips to go with it. Crisps, she reminded herself with a quick giggle.

She had only cooked because she wanted to show him that she could actually cook, despite her quip about being able to burn water and being able to open the box of macaroni and cheese all by herself. Amara could still do both of those things though. She had fixed their plates and set the coffee table then ran upstairs to change her clothes. She had taken a bath earlier in the day and had only been running around in a pair of old, yet very comfy, shorts and a baggy shirt that had both seen better days. She didn’t want him to see her dressed like a bum.

She heard Tom come in while she was getting dressed and rushed to pull on a pair of jeans and a black blouse that had tiny black skulls embroidered all over it. She ran back downstairs while combing her fingers through her hair and saw Tom standing in the living room staring down at the coffee table.

“Hi. How did rehearsals go?” Tom looked up when she reached him and he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“Rehearsals were fine, sweetheart.”

“That’s good.”

“Mmm. You did this?”

“Yeah.” Amara raised an eyebrow and looked down at the table set table. “Is something wrong with it?” Tom shook his head then gave her a gentle kiss and turned her loose.

“It looks great, darling.”

“Thanks. I told you I could cook.” She grinned then reached up and brushed a damp curl from his forehead. “You took a shower at work?”

“Yep and I stopped on the way home and got a couple bottles of wine. I wasn’t sure what you would be cooking.”

“Did you get a white?” Tom nodded then pulled the bottle white wine from his rucksack and Amara grinned. “Now I know where you hide your booze.” He smiled while rolling his eyes at her and she laughed taking the bottle from him. “You bought a chilled bottle?” He nodded then sat on the couch, watching her as she walked into the kitchen to uncork the wine.

What the hell had gotten into her? Not that he minded, but she was being a bit nicer than usual. Not that she wasn’t nice most of the time anyway, but something felt wrong about all of this. This was too controlled of her. Her hands were the steadiest he had ever seen them. She wasn’t forcing herself not to hyperventilate. She wasn’t blushing and stammering. She had barely reacted at all when he kissed her, when usually she would gasp and pull away from him. She was being _almost_ overly polite. At least more polite than what she usually was.

Whatever she had done today while he had been at rehearsal had involved making some kind of decision. It wouldn’t bode well for him, as usual, but she had made one. He automatically suspected the worst. Was she going to leave him after all? Would she wait until he was gone to rehearsals the next day and walk out on him? Was she going to ask him again for the annulment? Would she lie to him and tell him that she didn’t care about him and wanted to go home and end this charade as she’d been inclined to call it?

How had she managed to pull all of this off in only ten hours? This was too big of a change for him to take it seriously, for him to go along with it. He wasn’t going to let her keep lying to him or herself. He just had to choose the right moment to break her back down. He needed to take her out on a date again. Maybe not the way he had done taking her for fish and chips, but maybe something more romantic. It was obvious from the look in her eyes while they had watched August Rush that she was a romantic at heart even if she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, much less herself.

What could he do that she wouldn’t suspect anything until it was too late? It would have to be something touristy or she would notice first thing. There was the Royal Academy of Arts and then the Shenkman Bar for drinks. Maybe they could just go straight to the bar, have a few drinks to relax then go to the museum. Getting her mildly drunk would help. That might be too close to taking advantage though. There was always Jubilee Gardens and then a ride on the London Eye. Or maybe the other way around. The Gardens were open twenty-four hours a day and the Eye was only open so late.

“You look worried, Tommy.” He looked to his wife as she walked back into the room and he gave her a gentle smile.

“I’m fine, love. Just thinking.”

“Are you sure? You look troubled.”

Her voice was full of concern, not that it usually wasn’t when she was asking if he was all right, but it held an odd note as well. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “I’m perfectly fine, darling.”

“You’re sure?” She came around the table and sat next to him sitting the opened bottle of wine on a coaster on the table.

“Amara, I’m fine. I promise.”

“Okay. You should eat before it gets cold.” She gave him a gentle smile then poured the wine. She knew he had noticed how oddly she was acting. She would have to step it up if she didn’t want him to notice how much had changed because she had made up her mind and patched the cracks in her walls. Of course nothing had really changed. She was so fucked. So very, very fucked.

Four days later with Amara still trying to avoid him as much as possible when he was home, Tom was bordering on clingy and she was fixing to snap. It was a never ending cycle of her building up her walls while he was gone and him promptly trying to tear them down as soon as he walked in the door. They had somehow reached a level of domesticity that Amara found unnerving. At the same time it made her smile to see him happy. He was genuinely happy to see her when he got home from rehearsals. Or maybe it was surprise that she was still there. She had been cooking dinner for him each night and then helping him do the dishes after they finished eating.

Afterward they would sit and read to each other or make phone calls they had been neglecting to make or send emails. They would sit in companionable silence finishing off the bottle of wine from dinner and when Amara was ready for bed he would walk her to her door, kiss her goodnight, and then go to his own room.

The twenty-eight year old was certain her husband didn’t know that she realized how attentive and clingy he was being. He had been nothing but kind, as always, and very caring. But the little touches and kisses that he usually gave her increased in number and she thought she might suffocate under them. Maybe it was her own imagination making him seem clingy, but she thought he was hovering a little bit more. Talking to her a little bit more. Wanting to hold her a little bit more. Every touch, every gentle word, every move he made dug at the fresh spackle she had continuously scraped on with a putty knife.

She had come to expect it and took great pains to try to avoid it, but part of her had begun to accept the little things he did for her. Oh, she’d still rather go home than live in fear of his affections, but that little part of her that had gotten her into this mess to begin with was begging her to stay. And each day that little piece grew bigger and she would have to tamp it back down.

“Will you go out with me tonight?”

“Hmm?” Amara looked up from the book she’d been reading and saw her husband standing in front of her and looking adorably awkward.

“There’s somewhere I want to take you tonight.”

“I can’t, Tommy. I’m going to catch enough hell from people as it is. There’s a reason I haven’t been on my computer and I’ve been avoiding phone calls left and right. I haven’t read a paper or anything either. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the amount of phone calls you’ve been getting when you’re here. People are raising hell aren’t they?”

“I wouldn’t say raising hell, darling. People are talking yes, but I haven’t read anything negative. I’ve learned not to read anything about myself. Half of it isn’t true to begin with and I don’t want to know what people are saying about us.”

“I may not even leave the house until I go back home. I can’t be in the middle of something like this. I have enough anxiety issues without being thrust into the public eye, baby. And you’re lucky no one happens to know where you live or there would be people staked outside the gate and you’d have to sneak away.”

“I’m still not as famous as you seem to think, love.” Amara only scowled. “Do you want to go home?” The look in his eyes was determined with a little heartbroken thrown in. As if he wanted to beg her to stay but wouldn’t if she truly desired to leave. She wanted to cuddle him and promise him that she would never leave him and knew she was in trouble. Every moment spent with him was another nail in the coffin where her emotions were concerned.

_Yes, God yes. Please let me go home._ “Right this minute?” He nodded biting his bottom lip. “I’m not sure, baby. I mean, I do want to go home, but I promised that I would try to stay so . . .” Amara shrugged her shoulders thinking that once again he’d invoked some kind of brutal honesty in her. Of course it only pertained to certain things, but still.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being honest with me.” She wasn’t being honest about a lot of things right now, but this she was being honest about. “Will you go with me? It’s important.”

“Are you going to take me to meet your mama? I don’t think I can do that. I mean . . .”

“I do want you to meet my mum, but not tonight. I wanted to give you more time for that. Do you not want to meet her?”

“I’m terrified of it. She’s probably going to be accusing me of trying to steal from you or only marrying you because of who people think you are. She’ll do the same thing Luke did. And your sisters will too. Especially whichever one is older. They’ll be super protective of you and I don’t want to be hounded again because you’ll be mad at me if I get snippy with them. Because if they say rude things I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut and I’m supposed to take the high road and not do that to your family.” When Tom only blinked at her then laughed and she frowned at him. She knew what he was going to say. “I’m not overreacting or being overdramatic.”

“You are. Just a little bit.”

“Shut up.” She sat her book down then reached up and grabbed the belt loop on his jeans and pulled him closer to her. “Where are we going, then?”

“You’ll go with me?”

“As long as there won’t be too many people.”

“We’ll be the only ones there, darling.”

“You’re sure?”

“For the most part. We’ll be fine, I promise.” He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss then sat next to her.

“Is this a date?” Amara asked, standing up and moving to the liquor cabinet. She opened a bottle of Jameson and poured two fingers worth into a glass then took it to him. He smiled in thanks then pulled her down to sit on his lap. She sighed then gave in and wrapped her arm around him as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“Just a little one.”

“Is there such a thing as little dates?”

“There is now.” Amara rolled her eyes then laughed when he gently poked her ribs. She jerked away from him when he started to tickle her and he laughed when she snapped at him.

“Don’t you dare start tickling me all the time now that you know I’m ticklish.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He chuckled then took a sip of the whiskey she had brought him.

“Yes you would.” He grinned and she brushed her lips over his to kiss away the bead of whiskey that rested on his bottom lip. “What time do we leave, Tommy?”

“Not until later tonight.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“It better not be something sappy. I dislike sappy things.”

“No you don’t.” Amara sighed laying her head back on his shoulder.

“Shut up.”


	24. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating sooner. Personal and familial issues have been kicking my ass and I hope this chapter isn't as crap as I feel like it is.
> 
> Thank you to everyone that is sticking with this. <3
> 
> This was originally going to be split into two chapters because it's so long, but I felt that I was only delaying the inevitable if I did it that way.
> 
> Forgive any grammatical errors as I'm sure there are plenty that I missed.

Amara was standing in front of her closet wondering what the hell she was supposed to wear. She didn’t bring any dressy clothes with her, she hadn’t thought about going on dates with Tom while she was here. Not-dates. It totally wasn’t a date no matter what he said. It was a companionable outing. Friends hanging out. Two people who happened to be married due to  circumstances beyond Amara’s control (namely copious amounts of alcohol because she absolutely refused to believe it was fate) were going to leave the house together only to hang out with each other when they were perfectly capable of doing the same thing at home.

Yeah, it was a date. There was no getting around it no matter how she tried to word it. Just because it was a date didn’t mean she was going to act any differently than she always did. Except she had done her makeup. She was perfectly fine with not doing her makeup as long as she was going to be sitting at home and she knew Tom didn’t care, but if she was leaving the house with him she wanted to look her best so no one would talk shit.

She hated that he didn’t tell her where they were going. How was she supposed to know what to wear if she didn’t know where they were going? She frowned shuffling through her clothes then pulled out a raspberry pink silk camisole, a black military styled cropped cardigan, and a pair of black boot cut jeans. Hopefully she had remembered to pack her black boots. She tossed her clothes on the bed then dug through her suitcase and emerged with a triumphant grin and tossed the black leather combat boots toward the bed.

Her cell phone rang as she was pulling her jeans on and she scowled toward the annoying piece of technology she had been avoiding like the plague unless absolutely necessary. The ringing stopped and then started again almost immediately. Amara sighed slipping the camisole on then picked up the phone with a wince when she saw her mother’s number on the screen. It was probably the tenth time her mother had called. “Shit.” The twenty-eight year old was half afraid her mother had somehow found out about she and Tom getting married. “Mom, hi!” The sable haired woman hoped she sounded happy to hear from her mother.

“Where are you? I’ve been trying to call you for a week! I went by your apartment, but you’re not home. The twins aren’t answering their phones either.”

“You’re stalking me?” Amara couldn’t help but laugh.

“No.” Her mother huffed and she grinned. “It’s Wednesday.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re supposed to help me set up the job fair at school tomorrow. You’re supposed to have a booth there for the art kids.”

“Ah, shit!” Amara put her cell on speaker phone and dropped it to the mattress as she leaned down to pick up her boots.

“You forgot.” Her mom didn’t bother trying to hide the disappointment in her voice and Amara groaned.

“Yes. I’m so sorry. Things have been a little bit hectic the past few days.”

“What’s happened? Are you going to come?”

“Um . . . it’s a long story. A really long story and there’s a slight problem with me going.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I’m kind of not home.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m sort of in London.”

“London?”

“Yeah.”

“London, Arkansas? London, Ohio?”

“England? I kind of took an impromptu vacation.” Amara stomped her feet into her boots then grabbed her cardigan and walked out of her bedroom.

“Sweetheart,”

“I’m sorry, mom. I really am. Can I not reschedule it somehow? I mean, there’s probably like two kids in the entire school that would be interested in anything to do with art history anyway. Besides, if I tell them I work at Distant Lands for a living they’ll be a lot less likely to follow my path and that’s creepy anyway. There shouldn’t be any children wanting to follow my path.” Especially when said path had involved marrying a dude she’d only known one day in a Vegas wedding.

“No you can’t reschedule and you could have gotten an internship at the college.”

“I did that while I was in college and nearly had a panic attack every time I had to speak to the students. The only thing left for me is teaching and . . . I just really don’t see myself teaching.” Amara walked down the stairs to see Tom reclining on the sofa and nearly groaned. He was wearing that damned leather jacket again. Was he trying to kill her? She walked to the couch and sat on the far end away from him and tossed her cardigan over the arm of the couch.

“Sam would have hired you on at the college.”

Amara rolled her eyes at her husband and he smiled. “I don’t want to teach, Mother. I’m not qualified anyway. I only have a major in Art History.”

“The museum then.”

“They’ve got someone already. Not to mention they probably want someone with a doctorate. I like my books. I like the bookstore, okay? I don’t want to do anything else. Except maybe one day own my own store.”

“I know, sweetheart. I just wish you’d do something more with your life. I know you’ve been having problems.”

“No I haven’t. I’m fine.” As fine as she could be since she’d gotten married and her life had turned to hell.

“When are you coming home then?” That was a question Amara wasn’t sure how to answer. If she did right by her promise to Tom she’d be home in a little less than two weeks. If she did what she really wanted to do she’d be home in a few days. “Amarantha Marie Donovan, you answer me now.”

“In like a week or so.”

“Have you been in London the entire time I haven’t been able to get a hold of you?”

“Yeah.”

“What on Earth are you doing in London? And you’ll be there for three weeks?”

Amara looked to her husband and he gave her a weak smile. She knew she should tell her mom about getting married and technically being on her honeymoon, but it wasn’t something to be done over the phone. She especially should not tell her when she was already pissed off at her for ditching the school thing. “I’m planning my future.”

“What possible future could you have in London?” Amara bit her bottom lip and looked away from her husband. He was the future she could have in London.

“I gotta go, Mom. I’ll call you later. Love you.” She hung up before her mother could speak then fell over sideways and rested her head on Tom’s thigh. “I’m a horrible daughter.”

“No you’re not.” He chuckled as he reached up to comb his fingers through her hair.

“I totally ditched my mother. I mean, I didn’t want to do the stupid job fair thing anyway, but I was going to because she asked me. I can’t believe I forgot about it.” She groaned as she rolled over and wrapped her arms around his waist holding him close. He tensed in what she thought might have been surprise then relaxed into her touch. Probably it was because she was willing to touch him. Willing to let herself find comfort in it.

“Well, things have been a little hectic for you, my love.”

_A little hectic?_ That was an understatement if there ever was one. “Yes, but . . .” She sighed and shook her head. “I suck as a daughter.”

“Give her some time, Amara. Everything will be fine.”

“I know. She will be over it in a couple days, but still. I should have been there. I should have at least called and told her I was leaving.”

“But how could you tell her you were leaving when you couldn’t tell her the real reason why you were leaving.” Amara nodded and he slid his hand through her hair, gently combing out the tangles from when she had rolled over. “Do you ever plan on telling her?”

“I don’t know. I mean, if you and I stay together I’ll have to eventually. If we don’t stay together then I’ll probably never mention it unless she finds out some other way.”

“You’re not afraid Sarina and Michelle might tell her?”

“They’ve promised not to. Unless they think I’m too damaged by all of this.” Tom’s hand stilled in her hair and she sighed, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t be tempted to look at his and see what he was thinking. To see if she had hurt his feelings again.

“Do you think I’ll damage you so badly?”

“I don’t know. I’m just as likely to damage myself. Probably more so.”

When he started combing his hand through her hair again she sighed in contentment. She would miss the feel of his hands in her hair when she left to go home. If she was going to be honest with herself there were a lot of things about him that she would miss. She was sure she would miss the little touches and kisses he gave her, even if she couldn’t stand them now. She would miss hearing his laugh when she said or did something stupid or snarky. She would miss the gentle smiles he gave her over his breakfast and her coffee. The happy smiles he gave her every day when he got home from rehearsals. The kiss every night before bed, sometimes hurried, sometimes long and lingering, as if he couldn’t stand to be parted from her. She would miss him reading to her and his doing silly little voices. She would miss lying on the couch with her head in his lap or her reading to him as he lay with his head in her lap, laughing at her when she tried to do different voices as she read. She would miss just sitting next to him or wrapped in his arms and just . . . talking with him.

But she wasn’t going to be honest with herself. She was going to wrap denial around her like a security blanket. She wouldn’t let herself miss him. She would go home and file for an annulment and move on with her life. If not move on, then she would certainly move back to her old routine. She had been more than content to wake up, go to work, go home, eat dinner, and then go back to bed and start all over again the next morning. Tom had changed all that and as much as she hated to admit it, she wondered if she would ever again feel content with her old life. She would have to though, wouldn’t she? She’d made her decision and would deal with whatever came after.

“You’ve got that look again, Amarantha.”

“Which look? Apparently I have quite a few.”

“The sad look you get when you’re lying to yourself. As if it hurts but the alternative would hurt far worse.” What lies had she been telling herself this time and what impact would it have on their tenuous relationship?

Amara sat up, strands of her hair catching on his fingers, and met his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. I may not know you as well as I want to because you won’t let me in, but I can tell when you’re lying. When you’re lying to me and yourself. I’ve watched you pace, darling. I’ve watched you plotting and planning. I’ve watched you make up your mind about things you think I don’t know what they are. I know that look, my love, and it is anything but happy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Amara pulled away from him completely then stood and pulled on her cardigan. “Will you tell me where we’re going?”

“No. It’s a surprise. You’ll love it though.” He stood after a moment of letting her suffer then pulled a length of black fabric from his pocket and Amara backed away from him.

“What are you doing?” Had she finally driven him too far? Was he fixing to strangle her with that bit of cloth?

“I’m going to blindfold you. I did say it was a surprise. You trust me don’t you?”

“Against my better judgment.” The lie came easily, automatically, and when he placed the fabric over her eyes, she realized that it hadn’t all together been a lie. She did trust him. At least in certain aspects. She would trust him not to kill or injure her in any way, but she would not and could not trust him with anything else. “What’s the point of blindfolding me if I don’t even know where anything is here,” she asked even as she let him tie the blindfold over her eyes. “I don’t even know where we live. Where you live I mean.” He chuckled and she jerked back when he brushed his lips over hers. She didn’t move away from him because he had kissed her. She moved away because she hadn’t seen it coming. Oh, this blindfold thing was going to be a bad, bad idea. How could she protect herself from him if she couldn’t see him coming?

“You look beautiful, Amara.”

And she did. Her hair was mussed, the way he liked it best. Her lips had been painted the same raspberry color as her silk camisole and for some reason they appeared to be fuller than they usually were. She was blushing but he wasn’t sure if it was makeup or an actual blush staining her cheeks. Most likely she was actually blushing and he found it absolutely endearing. He knew she didn’t believe that she was beautiful and she wasn’t used to physical contact from anyone but hugs from the twins and her mother and those were the reasons for her blushes. He reached up and brushed his knuckles over her cheek and she flinched away from him.

“Don’t, Tommy. It’s not fair for you to touch me like that if I can’t see you.”

“That’s half the fun.”

Why did it sound to her that he wanted to do other things to her while she was blindfolded? Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. She shook her head, tamping those thoughts back down. The last thing she needed was to throw herself at him again. She reached up and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her shirt, drawing his attention to it.

The camisole clung to her curves, curves she had half hidden behind her cropped cardigan. Her black jeans were snug and when he put his hand on her shoulder and turned her toward the door he saw that they made her arse look spectacular. Not that it didn’t usually anyway.

“I can feel you staring at me, Thomas. My ass isn’t worth that.”

“What a wonderful ass it is, darling.” He laughed when she hissed in outrage. “I do love irritating you, Amara.”

“I know. I just don’t know why.”

“You have no idea how truly beautiful you are. Especially when you’re irritated with me.”

“If you think I’m beautiful when I’m irritated with you, wait until you see me when I’m completely pissed off.” He only laughed again, obviously refusing to take her seriously. She wasn’t even sure if she was taking herself seriously anymore. She crossed her arms over her breasts with a petulant pout, of course she was pouting, and he wrapped his long fingers around her arm and walked her out of the house.

Tom grinned to himself as he watched his wife from the corner of his eye. She was still pouting and he knew she would be until they got where they were going. Even then she would probably still pout. If she knew how endearing he thought she was when she pouted she probably wouldn’t do it.

He wondered if she realized she had been pouting since she had talked to her mother. The thought reminded him of what she said to her mum about being in London. Had she really meant it? She had not shown very much of it if she did. He didn’t think she had at all planned anything about her future except for making her escape.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Amara murmured it, turning toward him even though she couldn’t see him. He half-laughed and reached over to take her hand in his.

“I’m wondering if you realize how adorable you are when you’re pouting.”

“You’re a jerk.” Amara pulled her hand from his making him laugh again.

“Did you mean what you told your mum?” He hoped she did.

“What part?”

“That you were planning your future is why you’re here.”

“It’s the truth isn’t it? That’s why we’re both here right now. Trying to figure out if this will work. If we’ll work.”

“Yes, but to be honest you haven’t tried very hard.”

“Tommy.”

“Don’t try to justify it, Amarantha. I know you’re frightened of what you feel or might feel, but that doesn’t excuse a refusal to even try.”

“But.”

“Hush now.”

What an ass! Amara growled, “You did not.”

“Shh.”

Amara reached up and pulled her blindfold down long enough to glare at him then readjusted it and put her back to him hoping he would take the hint and leave her the hell alone. He was not going to practically chew her ass and then tell her to hush. Fucking jerk. She growled under her breath and pulled one side of her blindfold down to look out the window. What was he doing? Yeah she hadn’t tried. She knew that. Had she been that much of a bitch to him that he would snap at her?

Truthfully he hadn’t actually snapped, but she had never heard him speak like that before. Was he finally tired of her shit? Was he finally going to let her go home? She almost smiled. Would have if her heart hadn’t stopped beating at the thought of going home. She rubbed a hand over her chest and shook her head wishing the damned thing would stop trying to fuck her over. She was going to go home damn it and nothing would stop her.

Minutes later the car stopped and Amara resisted the urge to peek at where they were when Tom got out of the car and came around to open her door. He took her hand, helping her out, and she jumped when he shut the door.

“Nervous?”

“No.”

“Liar.” Tom grinned down at his sable-haired wife and when she stuck her tongue out at him childishly he leaned down and captured the tip of her tongue with his teeth. She gasped and he pulled her against him and took the opportunity to kiss her senseless. When she went pliant in his arms he pulled away from her and led her away from the car.

“Where are we?”

“You’ll see.”

Moments later she heard her sneaky husband murmuring to someone and then she was dragged after him once more. Wherever the hell they were standing when he finally stopped pulling her along was moving. Where the hell were they?

“Keep your eyes closed, love.” Amara nodded and felt Tom reaching up and untying the scarf over her eyes.

When the blindfold came off she blinked at the sight before her. They were in one of the capsules on the London Eye. She hadn’t known it was even open this late. Had Tom paid them to have it open? Or was it open this late sometimes? There was a small setup with a bottle of champagne, a box of chocolates, and a dozen pale pink roses. The same color that Tom had sent her before. A host stood inconspicuously to the side, waiting to serve them and probably tell them tourist information which Amara figured Tom would tell her anyway, and Amara gave him a gentle smile then turned back to her husband.

“Oh, you gorgeous jerk.” He laughed as he always did when she called him a jerk and she wondered if he thought it was a term of endearment. It was, but she wouldn’t tell him that. There were a lot of things she wouldn’t tell him.

“Do you like your surprise?” He looked nervous, afraid even, until she nodded and gave him a quick kiss. “I’m glad.” He was surprised she wasn’t throwing a fit and demanding to go home in all honesty. He wouldn’t have put it past her if she had. Maybe she was working up to it he thought when she walked away from him to move closer to the glass. He only shook his head and moved to their host to have him pour the champagne.

Amara sighed quietly as she watched Thomas speaking to the host in the reflection from the glass. He was probably telling him not to do his spiel about London because Tom would want to do it himself. She looked out of the glass and smiled even as she mentally cursed her husband.

What the fuck was he thinking? Did he honestly believe that doing something this hideously romantic would help win her over? The Cupid’s Crapsule thing was a little bit too much. Yes she knew what it was really called. She had found it when going over tourist information for London what felt like ages ago. Still, champagne and truffles and roses and being a gazillion feet over London when she was scared to death of heights was not her idea of a date. Not that she’d had any ideas to begin with because he wouldn’t even give her a hint as to where they had been going. So Cupid’s Crapsule is what she would call it. It was beautiful though. Not that she would tell him that.

Tom joined her moments later carrying two glasses of champagne and the small box of chocolates. She laughed taking her glass from him then snagged one of the chocolates. “Chocolate, huh?”

“I thought you’d like that bit.”

“You’re dangerous, Tommy.”

“I’ve been told.” Amara grinned then looked past their reflections in the glass, completely ignoring how right they looked standing next to each other. They shared the box of chocolates as the giant Ferris wheel lifted them higher and when Tom tried to give her the last one she shook her head and made him eat it. She was jumpy enough without adding more chocolate to it.

“Look, darling.” Tom started his spiel and she smiled leaning against his side as he spoke. She got lost in the sound of his voice quickly and stopped paying attention to what was what, only concentrating on the fondness and excitement he shared with her as he recalled certain things and memories.

The city was truly beautiful. Even as she cuddled against him and sipped her champagne and he wrapped an arm around her waist she thought that maybe this could be home. If she would let it be. If she could let go of everything else and actually go explore instead of hiding in their house. _Tom’s_ house. It so wasn’t her house. Still, it felt like home if she wanted to be honest. She didn’t want to be. Being honest hurt too damned bad. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Tommy. It’s just a little overwhelming. I didn’t realize it was so big here. I mean, it always looked big on TV, but I didn’t realize. It is beautiful though.”

“I thought that since you stay hidden in the house that this was the only way for you to see everything.”

She pulled away from him with a grateful smile. “It’s wonderful, baby. Thank you.” She gave him a gentle kiss then took another sip of champagne and moved even closer to the glass.

“You’re not as nervous as I thought you would be.”

Amara laughed when Tom stepped next to her. “I’m good at hiding things.”

Tom almost laughed. His wife was terrible at hiding things. So very bad at hiding from him. He didn’t think she could hide anything from him. He was near certain she was in love with him and either too scared or too proud to admit it. If she realized how in love with her he was she would run as fast and as far as she could manage. He still didn’t know how he was going to make her see how much she meant to him without scaring her off. He didn’t know if it was even possible at this point, but he was damn well going to try. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her against him and held her as the pod started making its decent. Why did he suddenly feel that his heart was falling with it?

After leaving the Eye and walking through Jubilee Gardens Amara asked her husband to take her home. Her heart had been hammering in her chest since they had gotten onto the pod and she thought she was either going to have a heart attack or her heart was fixing to shatter into a million pieces. She wouldn’t be able to pick up the pieces if either of those things happened. Tom kissed her, the same way he had kissed her in the park only days before, then walked her back to the car and started home. Amara was proud of herself for not having a panic attack this time. Probably the bottle of champagne they had split between them had helped.

When they got home Tom started toward the kitchen and Amara shook her head knowing that he was going after a bottle of wine.

“No more, baby. I feel woozy enough.”

“You’re not drunk already?”

“No,” she laughed. “No, I’m overwhelmed still. I . . . need to go to bed.” She needed away from him before she did something stupid like throw herself at him and climb him like a tree. He nodded then took her hand and led her through the house and up the stairs. He stopped at the door to his bedroom and she stared at him quizzically. He only smiled then pressed his lips to hers.

Amara sighed against her husband’s lips as she pulled back from him. “Goodnight, Tommy.”

“Stay with me tonight.”

“I can’t.” Amara knew that if she walked into that room with her husband they would fall straight into bed and there wouldn’t be much sleeping involved.

“You want to.” He reached up and brushed her hair back from her face. “I can see it in your eyes.”

She wanted to tell him she did want to, but the last time she had said ‘I do’ she’d gotten married. What would happen if she said it again? A perfect ending to a perfect night? Maybe one of the worst decisions she could ever make? Did it even matter anymore? She thought she might love him a little bit; she could admit that much to herself now. Barely. And not without pain and the feeling that her heart was fixing to shatter. God she wanted to leave. She wanted not to feel any of this . . . whatever this was. What had made her agree to this mess in the first place? Was love what had drawn her to him? Had she loved him the entire time and been that wrapped up in her own denial? Jesus, her life was falling apart and there was nothing she could do about it.

Tomorrow after she woke from whatever dream or nightmare she would have about her husband, whatever dream of hers happened tonight, she would cocoon herself in the smothering weight of that denial. Tonight she would let herself go. Tomorrow she would pick up the pieces. She would leave before he fell in love with her. She would leave in order to keep from hurting him.

“Where are you,” Tom murmured when her eyes darkened with some internal dialogue. It didn’t look necessarily bad, but whatever she was thinking had her far, far away. “My love?” She blinked at him then pressed her lips to his as she reached up and slid her fingers into his hair, carding through the thick strands until all of his careful work was undone and his hair was turned into messy curls; the way she had wanted it from day one.

“I do.”

“You’re sure?” Now he was the one that seemed uncertain. Amara nodded and reached behind him to open his bedroom door.

“Let’s go to bed, Tommy.” _Before I change my mind._ He must have known what she was thinking or realized that she was still somewhat frightened.

“Only if you’re sure, Amarantha. I won’t take advantage.”

“You gorgeous jerk, just take me to bed.” She kissed him again then laughed quietly when he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

Tom was lying beside her, propped up on one elbow and his head in his hand. Amara blushed under his intense gaze and barely resisted the urge to pull the sheet up to her neck in an effort to preserve what little modesty she had left. “What is it?” When he only smiled at her she reached up and combed her fingers through her hair then ran her hands over her face. “What is it? Have I got something on me?”

“No, darling. Well, not unless you count the numerous hickeys on your neck and clavicles.” She gasped and he laughed hysterically then reached over with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around her arm to keep her from leaving the bed. “I’m kidding. You’ve only got a couple.”

“Thomas.” He grinned when she scowled and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Well, I suppose I should tell you that your make-up artist is going to have to cover a few on your neck and clavicles as well. Will you be shirtless?” He only laughed then leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss.

“I love you.” They both tensed as soon as he said it. Amara, he knew, because she had always thought love and pain went hand in hand. Tom, because he hadn’t meant to say it. Not like this. He wasn’t going to tell her so soon and he wasn’t going to tell her after they had just made love. At least it hadn’t been during. That would have been worse and she would have believed him even less than she already did.

Fingers that were twisting his curls tightened painfully and she shook her head. “I don’t find that very amusing, Thomas.”

“The love bites?”

“No. What you just said to me.”

“What did I say?”

“Oh, don’t be obtuse!” She sat up, pushing him away from her, and held the sheet to her breasts when it slipped down. “Don’t say it again.” Oh, God. She was so fucked. So very, very, fucked.

“I do love you, Amara.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t lie and don’t say something like that after what we’ve just done.”

“I don’t lie. Especially not about things like this.”

“You’re an actor. You’re all liars.”

“All the best lies are ones told with a grain of truth.”

“Which makes them all the more convincing, but they are still lies, Thomas. You don’t love me. You barely even know me.”

“Not for lack of trying. Will you please not argue with me about this tonight, my love?”

“I’ll argue with you whenever I damn well please.”

“Amarantha, please don’t argue tonight. We’ll speak of it in the morning when we’re not so tired.”

“Tom. You can’t just . . . don’t say something like that and then expect me not to react. You knew that I . . . You knew. ” She stood, pulling the sheet with her and wrapped it around her as she paced. “I don’t know why you would tell me you love me.”

“Because it’s true.” He sat up, not bothering to hide his nudity and sighed. He knew she wasn’t going to let it go tonight. She would badger him until he told her all of it or apologized for telling her and lie about meaning it, but she would still know. As the saying went, in for a penny . . .

“Darling, I never believed in love at first sight. Not until you. I always thought you had to get to know the person before you could love them. That you had to speak with them. To spend time with them. Learn everything about them that you could. I always thought that if there was friendship there and it was meant that you would just slide into it. You would gradually fall in love with them and then all you would see when you looked into their eyes was how much you love them. How much you want to care for and protect them. You saw their heart and if you were lucky you saw forever. I have never seen any of that until you.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Tell you what I feel? How I much I love you? That I’ve loved you since you crashed into me in the corridor at the hotel?”

Amara closed her eyes against threatening tears and shook her head when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “No.”

“Amara, please don’t do this. Don’t freak out on me.”

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Tom. I can’t . . . I don’t want this.”

“What don’t you want?”

“This. All of this. It hurts.” God it hurt. She felt like her heart was being ripped in two and she wanted nothing more than to leave before it got worse. As usual, for reasons beyond her, he knew what she was thinking.

“It doesn’t have to hurt, darling. You don’t have to let it hurt. Will you promise me something?”

“What is it?”

“Promise me that you won’t leave tonight.” Amara didn’t want to promise him. Not when it was a promise that she was likely to break. He knew it even as he asked for the promise. “Will you promise me?” She eventually nodded then pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. A heartrending sob followed and she rested her head against his shoulder as he rocked her side to side.

“Please don’t cry, my love.”

“I can’t help it.”

He nodded with a heavy sigh then led her back to the bed. She wrapped herself around him as soon as he lay next to her and he started combing his fingers through her hair.

“Hush now, darling. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Amara nodded and tucked her hand under her cheek against his chest. Dear God what was he thinking? He knew how she felt about love. He knew she wouldn’t believe him. So why would he tell her he was in love with her when he knew it more likely to make her run away instead of returning his sentiments? And God how she wanted to leave. Even after promising him she wouldn’t leave tonight she still wanted to.

She should have never let it come his far. She should have told him no from the beginning. She had tried though hadn’t she? She had said no, but there had been something about him that made her agree to this mess. Maybe the determination in his eyes, the gentleness he exuded, the protectiveness he showed her. What had it been that made her throw all of her rules out the damned window?

She would have to leave to keep from hurting him. Wouldn’t she? He knew that she was broken and he had still thought he was in love with her. Did he not realize the potential for him to be hurt? For both of them to be hurt? Amara rubbed her chest over her heart, trying to ease the ache. Why, when she was going to leave, did the thought of running hurt so badly?

“It’s all right my love.” He whispered it against her hair and she nodded, once again lying to him.

It would never be alright.

As soon as her husband was asleep Amara slid from his arms and put the pillow that would have been hers in his arms. At the airport he had made her promise that if she wanted to leave she would have a good reason and tell him instead of just running out on him. Moments ago he made her promise she wouldn’t leave tonight. She was afraid she was going to break those promises.

She had a couple good reasons; at least she thought they were good reasons. First and foremost being the fact that she was terrified beyond reason that she might actually be in love with him, even just a little bit. Second was the fact that she knew he would be able to talk her into staying with him if she were to tell him what was wrong when they spoke in the morning. So she would write a note. It would tell him her reasons for leaving. Maybe it wouldn’t make it seem entirely like she was breaking her promises to him. She was totally copping out. She had to.

Two hours later Amara had packed her clothes, (at least as much of them as she dared to) had written her chicken shit note to her husband, found her return ticket and called the airline, and was punching in the security code for the alarm system so it wouldn’t go off and wake him. A cab was waiting for her at the gate to the drive. All she had to do was walk out the door and never look back. She would file for the annulment when she got home. She would go back to work and hopefully Tom would sign the papers without a fight.

Tom was staring down at the letter in his hands. Amara wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was. She hadn’t even made certain he was asleep. She had only assumed he was because he was quiet and still. He had watched her run on tiptoe out of his bedroom. Seconds later he heard her shuffling things around her room, hangers falling to the floor, and his beautiful liar shoving her clothes in her suitcase. Moments after that he had heard a pen scratching on paper and when she had sneaked back into the bedroom to lay the note on the pillow that would have been hers he pretended to be asleep. He heard her run down the stairs and wondered if she had taken off her rings even as he hoped and prayed she would change her mind and come back to bed.

When he heard her punching in the security code, the code he didn’t even realize she knew, he knew that she would not be coming back. Not to bed and certainly not to him. Tears filled his eyes, more than they had at reading that ridiculous note, and he shook his head. He wasn’t going to let her leave without a fight. He moved from the bed, pulling the sheet with him because he wasn’t going to argue in the nude, and marched out of the bedroom with the crumbled and tear stained note in his hand.

He walked down the stairs and saw her standing just inside the door her bags at her feet. It simultaneously broke his heart even more and pissed him off. “You promised, Amarantha.” She closed her eyes with a sigh of defeat. She wasn’t going to get out of this without a fight. “You promised that you wouldn’t walk out on me or leave without giving me a fair reason. You promised me that you wouldn’t leave tonight.”

She saw that the note was crumpled in his hand and tears tracked down his cheeks as he walked and she turned away so she wouldn’t have to see them. Or notice the fact that he was wearing nothing but the sheet wrapped around his hips. She punched the last digit for the security code and opened the door to leave as she tried to harden her heart.

 “I gave you several valid reasons in that note.”

“You filled it with as much bullshit as you could think of, once again trying to cop out. This letter was more to convince yourself of what you wanted than to give me a reason why you’re walking out.”

“That’s not fair, Thomas.”

“You think this was?” He tossed the wadded up note at her feet and she shook her head, fighting against tears of her own when he sniffled. “Did you think it was fair to me for you to wait until you thought I was asleep to run away? To watch you trying to run away? To see you getting ready to walk out the bloody door when I come to look for you?”

She turned toward him slowly and met his eyes for the first time since he had come downstairs. “You weren’t asleep?”

“No. Fucking hell. Of course I wasn’t asleep. I was waiting to see what you did. I laid there and I prayed that you would come to your senses and come back to bed. That you would talk to me like you had promised in the airport. I listened to you packing your things. I listened to you write a fucking note of all things and I pretended to be asleep when you came back to leave it on your pillow like a demented fucking mint and card on a pillow at a hotel. When you walked back into the bedroom I hoped that you had decided not to leave and were coming back to bed, but all you did was leave that damned note and walk out like I didn’t mean a damn thing to you.”

“That’s not . . .”

“Don’t you dare say it isn’t fair! Is any of the way you’ve treated me since day one fair? The disdain as if I were worth less than the ground you walk on. As if I wasn’t worthy of what little affection you hold for people.”

“You knew from the beginning that I . . .” Amara shook her head. So far she had avoided telling him about her past relationship. About how she knew how much love hurt you and ripped your heart out to leave it bleeding on the ground. She wasn’t going to tell him now. She hadn’t wanted any of this. To fight with him. To have him watching her leave. It was too late to stop it. If she tried to stay now he either wouldn’t let her or he would never let her leave his sight and he would wind up hating her. As if he wouldn’t anyway. It didn’t matter if she stayed or left. What they had had, what little Amara had let them have, was over. “I have to go. I’ll miss my flight.”

“You can get another.”

“I don’t want another, Tom.” She backed up a step when he moved closer to her, the sheet around his hips swishing on the hardwood floor. She didn’t want him to touch her because she knew she would break if he did. “I want to leave on this one. The sooner I’m gone the sooner you will realize that you’re only infatuated with me for whatever reason and not truly in love with me like you seem to think.”

“Don’t tell me what I feel.”

“Someone needs to.”

“Amara, darling, please.” He reached for her and she backed away from him, stepping out onto the small porch and pulling her bags with her.

“Don’t touch me. I have to go.”

“Why? Why can’t you stay?”

“You’re flogging a dead horse, Tommy. I’ve already told you. I’ve been trying to tell you since the beginning. This won’t work. Me and you won’t work.”

“Why can’t you admit how you feel?”

Amara sighed, an annoyed look crossing her face. “How do I feel, Thomas?”

“You love me and you’re scared to death of it. You’re so frightened to let yourself have something good that you’ll throw it away because you’re afraid it won’t last."

_Bingo._ “No.”

“Tell me the truth, Amarantha,” He snapped at her and she sighed, looking him straight in the eyes. She was fixing to do something to him that was so cruel she knew she would hate herself for it, but she couldn’t stay with him any longer. Not when she was so fucked up. Not when her mind wouldn’t let her follow her heart. Yes she was scared shitless of him. Of what she felt for him and until she worked out her issues she couldn’t be with him. She’d rather not be with him at all for fear of getting hurt. As if being with him was even an option at this point.

“The truth, Thomas?” He nodded and she gave him a grim smile. “The truth is that I don’t love you and never will.” He gasped, taking a step back in shock and she strengthened her resolve against his tears. “I don’t want to be with you any longer and let you believe something that isn’t true. I told you the truth before when I said I didn’t want you hurt. If I stay you will be, because it won’t be fair for you to love someone who can’t love you back. I’ll send the paperwork for the annulment.” With that she turned and moved down the steps and began walking down the driveway toward the gate where a cab was waiting for her.

“How long do you think you can keep lying to yourself, Amara? To me?”

She forced her shoulders back to keep from hunching in on herself and pretending she didn’t hear him. She punched in the code for the gate and walked through once it opened. The cabbie nodded to her and she climbed into the back seat of the car as he loaded her luggage. Amara knew Tom was still standing in the doorway, staring at her. Watching her leave him. Begging her with his eyes not to go.

She refused to cry. She didn’t deserve to after what she’d just done to her husband. Why had it seemed like the right thing to do while she was doing it? Now it only seemed like the biggest mistake of her life. She’d hurt him unnecessarily because she had been too frightened to give in to herself. She would never forgive herself for it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me.
> 
> As always kudos, comments, etc. are very much appreciated. I do love them dearly and they make my day better when I see them. I could use better days right now.


	25. Counting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for the comments, kudos, etc. Oh and the views. So many views! ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Two days, five hours, twenty-seven minutes. That was how long it took Amara to realize that her life was completely fucked after she had walked out on her husband. And she’d been the one to do it. Oh, she could blame her husband for it. Blame Tom for all of it really, but that wouldn’t be fair. Although according to her husband she wasn’t fair to him anyway. Honestly she hadn’t been, but when had he been fair to her? He had said he would give her time. He had said he wouldn’t push or pressure her. He had not been as obvious about doing both of those things as he could have been, but he had definitely pushed and pressured.

She both hated and loved him for it. She loved him for it because he had made her see things about herself that she had never realized or known before. She hated him for it because he had broken something inside her. Something that was vital to her existence. He had made her feel things that she had long ago promised herself she never would. He had fractured the walls she had built around her heart and there was nothing she could do to patch them. She almost didn’t want to.

Maybe the lack of sleep was what was making her seem so crazy. Amara hadn’t slept in two days. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his face. She saw the tears in his eyes, the pleading gaze, the trembling of his lower lip, the hands shoved through messy curls, fingers tangled in the short strands. She heard his last words to her as she left. How long could she keep lying to herself and to him? She hadn’t quite figured out that last bit yet. She’d been lying to herself her entire life. How much longer could she keep doing it? She couldn’t. As for lying to her husband of three weeks, because the days since she had left didn’t count, she wasn’t sure about that either. How long could she lie to him? How long would he let her? How long would it be before she stopped fucking around and gave in and would it be too late for them when she did? Hell, it probably already was.

She needed a distraction. She needed something that was going to make her not think. Maybe things wouldn’t be so grim if she went back to work.

Amara walked into Distant Lands looking only slightly worse for wear and walked straight to Sam’s office. Maybe Sam would let her start working again. If she was working she wouldn’t be worrying about Tom. Wouldn’t be wondering what he was doing. She needed to send him the papers for their annulment. He had to sign them. After that he could do whatever the hell he wanted with their marriage license. The wedding photo she had brought back with her. The rings were once again in her jewelry box in the secret drawer in her writing desk. The picture was with them. She would send the rings back to Tom when he signed the papers to end their three week long marriage.

Sam was sitting at her desk, talking to one of their suppliers on the phone when Amara walked in. She waved Amara to one of the chairs across from her desk and Amara sat down and began fiddling with things on Sam’s desk. She only did it because it annoyed Sam. The older woman glared at her and began moving things back to their proper places.

“What are you doing here?” Sam snapped as she sat the receiver back in its cradle. The sable haired woman frowned at Sam’s terse greeting.

“Coming back to work.”

“It has nothing to do with running away from your husband?”

“I didn’t run away. I left to come back to work. I do have bills to pay.”

“You still have a week left of vacation time. I suggest you get your ass back on a plane, go back to your husband and beg his forgiveness for being a stupid twat.”

“What?” Amara groaned and Sam slammed a hand down on her desk making her jump.

“What the hell were you thinking? Walking out like that? Do you know how much I’ve had to hear about it from Michelle and Sarina?”

“No.”

“Michelle called him because you weren’t answering your cell. He was in tears apparently and told them that you walked out on him in the middle of the night. A note? Really?”

“We spoke before I left.”

“Oh yes. You said plenty to him didn’t you?”

“I did. Not that any of this is any of your fucking business. What happens in my personal life has nothing to do with you or my job, Samantha. Can I come back to work or should I look for another job?”

“You can come back. You’re stupid as fuck, but you can come back. Clock in and then go start on inventory.”

“Inventory?” Amara frowned, she hadn’t had to do inventory in years. Had always hated having to scan and count every book in the store. That included the books on the shelves, the books in the back and those that had been delivered and yet to be unpacked. “Marc and Amber do inventory.” It was a job for those that were newer than or just not as high up as Amara.

“And now you’re doing it. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yeah. It’s wonderful that you’re using my personal life against me at work and making me do shit that I haven’t had to do in years.”

“You don’t want to do inventory?”

“No.”

“We don’t always get what we want, Amara. Tom is testament to that.”

“Oh fuck you, Sam. And since when did he let me get what I want? I never wanted any of this!” Amara stood and walked out of Sam’s office, barely restraining herself enough to keep from slamming the office door then went into the back to clock in.

As soon as work was over she was going to jump Michelle and Sarina’s asses. They had no right to tell anyone about what had happened. It was none of their business and certainly not Sam’s. She got that they cared about her and worried for her but her relationship, whatever it was, was none of their fucking business.

Amara grabbed the scanner and walked out into the front of the store pointedly ignoring Sarina when she saw her walking to the steps that led upstairs. Sarina tried to talk to her and Amara brushed past her without a word and began to count and scan in the books. Amara knew it was punishment. She also knew it wasn’t anywhere near time for inventory. That they did at the end of every month.

Seven hours later Amara had clocked out and tossed a stack of books into the markdown bin for someone else to mark down later. She glared at Sam’s door on her way out, not caring how childish it made her. She would have to do inventory tomorrow as well and probably the next day in order to get finished with it. She could just quit and not have to deal with any of the bullshit but that would be too close to quitting on Tom and she refused to quit two things that she loved in almost as many days.

In the morning she had to go file the papers for the annulment and fax them to Tom so he would get them in time. There was only five days left before it would have to be divorce papers, which she would willingly file if it came to it. She hoped he would just sign whatever papers they wound up having to get and let her be done with him. The sooner it was over, the sooner they could move on with their lives. The tiny voice that had gotten her into this mess to begin with called bullshit.

“Amara!” The sable haired woman turned when she heard her name called and raised an eyebrow when she saw Sarina and Michelle rushing toward her. She shook her head and began walking again. They would catch up to her and even if they didn’t, they knew where she lived and would be there soon anyway.

She climbed the stairs to her apartment to be contrary knowing that the twins would take the elevator. When she stepped out of the stairwell on her floor she sighed when she saw them standing at her door.

“If you’re here to give me another lecture you can fuck off.” With that she unlocked her door and walked straight to the kitchen. She reached for the bottle of vodka she kept in the freezer then shook her head and grabbed a bottle of soda from the fridge. When she walked back into the living room she saw the twins still standing just inside the door. “Still here then?”

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Michelle spoke first, surprising Amara. She figured Sarina would speak first because of her being a fan of Tom.

“Apparently you already know.” Amara took a drink of her soda and glared at them. “You had no fucking right to tell Sam. What I do when I’m not at work is none of her fucking business. What? You figured that my life wasn’t enough of a living hell? You had to add more to it! Make it worse!”

“You did it to yourself. How could you walk out on him?”

“Oh, my fucking God! It’s none of your business. Jesus Christ. I love you like sisters, but what happens between me and my husband is none of your goddamned business!”

“He made it our business when he told us what happened. Do you realize how badly you hurt him?” Sarina spoke for the first time and followed Michelle to the couch to sit down across from Amara when the twenty-eight year old plopped down in her chair.

Amara only huffed and took another swig out of her bottle and wished she’d opted for the vodka. She figured alcohol was the only way to get through this shit. Yes, she was being a hypocrite and wanted to use it as a crutch, but what else could she do? Besides the obvious. She could run back to him and beg his forgiveness. Yeah, right. “No more than I’ve ever been hurt. He doesn’t love me. He can’t. He doesn’t even fucking know me. We’ve known each other for three weeks and two days. That is not long enough to be in love with someone.”

“Isn’t it,” Michelle asked quietly. She and her twin knew damn good and well that Amara was in love with Tom and that was why the twenty-eight year old had run.

“No, it’s not. I don’t love him. I can’t. I won’t.”

“Who are you trying to convince, Amarantha? Us or yourself? How long do you think you can keep lying to yourself,” Sarina asked. The words were too damn reminiscent of Tom and Amara wondered what exactly he had told them. Everything from the sound of it.

“Get out.” She said it quietly and the twins gasped in unison, but made no move to leave. “I said get out!” She finally screamed at them and Michelle stood, trying to pull her sister up. Sarina slapped her away and turned back to Amara.

“How could you do this?”

“Because I have to! I’m not going to stay with him and wonder when he’ll decide to throw everything back in my face. It would kill me if it happened again.”

“So you did it for him.”

Amara gave her a slight nod. “I did what I had to do. Now get the fuck out of my apartment.” With that she stood and walked into the kitchen for the bottle of vodka. She took a drink straight from the bottle. Shades of her father was all that came to mind.

“Amara, please. Call him at least. Talk to him.”

“Fuck off!” She walked back into the living room and sat back down.

“You know what? No. We’re not going to fuck off.  You’re going to sit here and listen to us.” Sarina snapped. “That man loves you and for the life of me right now, I don’t know how he can. You’re cold, Amara. You always have been, but you’ve never intentionally hurt someone before. You’ve gone out of your way and hurt yourself more times than I can count in order to avoid hurting people that you care about. What you did to him was cruel beyond words.”

“He doesn’t love me.” Amara took a long drink from her bottle, relishing the cold burn that worked its way to her stomach. She pouted when she saw that the bottle was already half empty. Had she drank that much of it already? Or had it already had some out of it? Surely it had been. She’d only had two drinks. Yes, it had been. It was the same bottle she’d opened when Tom had showed up unexpectedly.

“You’re fucking stupid if you honestly believe that Tom doesn’t love you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes we do. Christ you could see it in his eyes at the hotel in the first time you ran into him. He is head over heels in love with you and you’re too stupid to fucking see it.”

“I’m not going to sit here and listen to you lecturing me on something you think you know.” Amara screwed the cap onto the vodka bottle and set it in the floor next to her chair only to immediately pick it back up. “You don’t know anything about it. Neither does he. He’s infatuated because I tackled him twice. He thinks that it’s love because he found me at the club. He kept on blathering about it being fate. _That_ is what his deal is. Not love.” With that Amara stood and walked to the door of her apartment. She opened it then stood to the side and waved them out with the mostly empty vodka bottle. “Leave. Now.”  

The twins stood and walked to her with identical pitying expressions. “Whether you believe it or not, Amara, there are people in this world that love you and care for you a great deal. We’re few in number but that doesn’t mean we love you any less. You might want to be careful how many of us you push away. You won’t like being alone.” Sarina murmured it on the way out and Michelle gave Amara one last pitying look.

 Amara only took another drink from the liquor bottle that was almost empty then slammed and locked the door behind them as soon as the twins stepped out into the corridor. She didn’t want them coming back in. She wouldn’t put it past either of the twins not to rush back in and try to beat some sense into her. She didn’t want to see anyone right now. She had rather be left alone with her misery. Besides, it wasn’t like she wouldn’t see Michelle and Sarina at work. If she decided to go back.


	26. Petrichor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a week! Woot!!
> 
> And Shell, I dunno if this one's angsty as a mofo or if the next one is since I split them. They're both kinda angsty though.

It had been three weeks, six days, seventeen hours, and thirty-two minutes since she had walked out of her husband’s life. Since she had left him standing in the doorway wrapped in a sheet with tears streaking down his face. He had called, of course he had called, but she hadn’t answered her phone. She didn’t want to hear the tears and heartbreak in his voice. She didn’t want to hear him cursing her or begging her to come back. She didn’t know which he would be doing, but either one would hurt her more than she could say. She couldn’t stand the thought of him being hurt. She sure as hell couldn’t stand to hear it. She had hurt herself _and him_ enough and she knew she was still hurting him by refusing to answer him.

Though he hadn’t tried calling in a few days. A week almost. She almost missed the sound of his ringtone. On one hand it had let her know he still cared. On the other it filled her heart with dread. She was scared shitless to talk to him. She had almost answered the phone once. When she realized she had forgotten her Adipose sitting on the pillow on her bed at his house. She missed the thing terribly and wanted it back because he had been the one to give it to her, but it wasn’t worth the heartbreak and pain to ask if he could send it back to her. He probably wouldn’t have anyway. Or he would have devised some kind of blackmail in order to get her to return to London. She was near certain she would never go back and never get her Adipose back.

She had taken to walking through the park across town in the middle of the night. She could almost pretend nothing was wrong as she walked or sat on a bench. She would focus on the sound of crickets and frogs and owls and the random coo of other birds instead of the thoughts and heartbreak swirling through her. And if it happened to rain like it just had well . . . it was easier to hide her tears in the rain. God how chick flick could she be? Tom would just love it she was sure.

Amara sniffled, wiping the rain and tears from her face and took a deep breath to steady herself. She only cried worse when she caught the scent of wet grass and dirt. Petrichor she thought it was called. The scent of earth after the rain. It only reminded her of standing in the rain getting her brain melted and her heart shattered by Tommy. She bit back a sob and her cell started to ring. Her heart jumped hoping it was him even though she wouldn’t answer it if it was. Never mind that it wasn’t even his ringtone. She pulled her cell from her pocket, shielding it with her hand and frowned when she saw a number she didn’t recognize. She shoved it back in her pocket letting it go to voicemail then stood and started walking back home.

God it wasn’t even home anymore. None of this place was. It had been home for so long, all of her life. And then some dorky, beautiful, lanky Brit had come into her life, made her fall in love with him, and changed everything. It hadn’t felt like home since she had come back. She felt like a foreigner here. Everything seemed alien to her because she didn’t have Tom. It was her own stupid fault. She had pushed him away, in order to keep him from getting hurt she had told herself, but in reality she had pushed him away in order to keep herself from getting hurt. Both of them had been hurt unnecessarily because she had been too stupid, too proud, and too stubborn to let herself be with him and be happy. It wouldn’t have lasted. Her happy never lasted.

She couldn’t stand wandering aimlessly through the park because it reminded her of him. She did it anyway because it _did_ remind her. _Everything_ fucking reminded her of what she’d stupidly thrown away and lost. She hated sitting on the sofa or her chair and trying to read. It wasn’t the same when she wasn’t snuggled against her husband. It wasn’t the same when he wasn’t there to read to her and do all the silly voices while she lay with her head in his lap or cuddled with him in her oversized armchair.

It wasn’t the same as she sat in her apartment alone. She had never been lonely before. She hadn’t been _not_ lonely, but she had been content. Now she feared she would never be content again.

Her stomach growled reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in two days. Hadn’t eaten properly since she’d gotten married she realized. She had reverted back to not cooking. Not even for her mother on Thursdays. Those days she had been avoiding especially.

She didn’t want to see anyone. Especially her mother, who would be able to tell that something was wrong and would drag it out of her. And how would she explain to her mother that she was married to and in love with a man she’d known for little more than a month? As if that would go over well. She would get her ass chewed and told how stupid and immature she was. How incredibly irresponsible it was to marry someone she’d only known a day. That she had married an actor, a liar by profession. _Profession, not nature_. She sighed heavily and sniffled as she wondered what her professional liar was doing.

Three weeks. Three bloody weeks and not a word. Not an email. Not a fuck you sent in a text. Not a manila envelope that contained divorce papers that he would need only sign and send back through the post. His signature scrawled across a line on a sheet of paper was all it would take to end his six week, five day, fourteen hour, and twenty-one minute long marriage. How pathetic was he that he remembered the exact time that they had said their ‘I do’s’? Amara probably had no clue what time it had been. She probably wouldn’t remember their wedding date except that it was in the early morning hours of the day after her birthday. 3:47 in the morning, the 28th of June and his life would never be the same.

God how he missed her. He missed her shy smiles. The way her dark chocolate eyes sparkled and shone when she laughed. The way she shyly ducked her head and let her hair cover her face to hide her blushes. The way she awkwardly tucked her bangs behind her ears when she talked to him. Her happy smiles when she forgot she was afraid of him while he read to her or while they watched films together. He missed the way her bottom lip trembled after he kissed her. The way she gasped and melted into his arms when she forgot herself. The shock on her face and in her eyes when she realized that she had. He missed holding her. He missed her snarky attitude, her sarcasm and cynicism. The optimism that she tried to hide. He missed sleeping next to her with her arms and legs wrapped around him, her head on his chest or nuzzled against his neck. Even if it had happened only a very few times. He missed snuggling on the couch together while he read to her. Hearing her quiet giggles when he did different voices for each character. He missed her lying with her head on his lap and his fingers combing through her hair.

He didn’t miss her fits of denial. Nor did he miss the disdain and bitchiness she’d had for him. He didn’t miss the panic attacks or the panic in her eyes when he had slipped and told her he was in love with her. He didn’t miss the steel in her eyes and voice when she had lied and told him she didn’t love him and never would. He didn’t miss the feeling of his heart shattering as she walked away from him without looking back.

He missed far more things about her than he didn’t miss. He sighed heavily and threw her Adipose across the room out of frustration then immediately went to fetch it from the floor. He brushed imaginary dust from it and sat it back on the nightstand that had been in her room and he had since moved to his own. Some of her things were still in the small drawer where she had shoved them and forgotten about in her haste to leave. He had left her clothes in the closet in her bedroom. He didn’t have the heart to pack them away and ship them to her. The Adipose either. It would only be more things about her that he would miss. He still wasn’t sure if she had left it on purpose or had forgotten the Adipose in her haste to leave. Though if she had left the Adipose on purpose then surely she would have left her TARDIS necklace as well.

Those things in the nightstand and under her pillow, aside from the wedding band he had refused to take off, were his last connection to her; something he didn’t want to lose. Especially since she had refused to answer any of his calls, text messages, or emails. He was certain she hadn’t checked any of the voice messages he had left her either. He was also certain she had not read the handwritten letters he had sent her in the post. They had each been returned to him unopened and marked return to sender. They too were in the drawer of the nightstand.

A glance at the clock that rested on the small table told him that it had been three weeks, six days, seventeen hours, and thirty-two minutes since his beautiful liar had walked out of his life. He hadn’t eaten or slept properly since she had left. It almost shamed him to admit, even only to himself, that he’d had nightmares about her disappearing completely with no one being able to find her. He would search and search for her only to find that she was already gone from whatever place his nightmares had dropped him.

His work was suffering for it. He was sure it was but either no one had noticed or no one had said anything for fear of upsetting him. A very, very few number of people knew what had happened and none that he worked with. There were rumors of course. People having seen Amara leave the house in the middle of the night with her bags packed. Getting into a cab and never returning. Seeing her at the airport. Her former anonymity completely shattered by his insistence that she go out to lunch with him. Even the people he worked with had heard the rumors. Most didn’t pay attention to rumors; those that did never questioned him. It was none of their business.

His family and Luke on the other hand? He sighed again. His mother and father both thought he should file for divorce on his own, but they also knew how much their son loved his absentee wife and wanted her back. Luke and tried to tell Tom that he had been right about Amara from the beginning even though he had never said anything about Amara running away. Luke had only been insistent that Amara had married Tom for his money or whatever else she thought he could give her. She hadn’t let him give her anything except for her rings, the TARDIS necklace and her Adipose plush. His sisters had spoken very strongly about Amara but he had set them straight.

Even still his family had no clue about half of what had happened. It was extremely private and even though they had tried to get him to talk he had refused. They would only pick out the parts they wanted to hear and only defend him, not giving Amara the benefit of the doubt. Not giving her the chance that Tom had wanted for her. So he wouldn’t tell them all of it and even though it was beyond absurd, he defended her at every turn.

He sighed again and lay down on his bed. Maybe he could actually sleep. He closed his eyes only to open them seconds later and put her Adipose under the pillow that would have been hers. He was certain the damn thing was staring at him. He groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. The lack of sleep was making him crazy. Crazier. He had been crazy insisting that he and Amara stay married hadn’t he? He had been crazy trying to understand what had made her tick. What had made her like she was. What had made her scared to let herself be happy.

“Jesus.” His eyes slid to the clock on the nightstand. It had only been ten minutes since the last time he had looked and he wondered what was his beautiful liar doing now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comments, kudos, etc. (^.^) 
> 
> Also I have another chapter almost finished, I only lack an ending for it. And then I have some editing on other chapters that I've got written and have to change up a little to fit the in with the rest as I have changed and added in chapters since I wrote them.
> 
> And I think I've got a guesstimate as to how many chapters this has left. Somewhere between five and ten. Give or take a couple.


	27. Stalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not particularly happy with this chapter, but I tried so there's that. ｡◕‿◕｡

Amara sighed as her cell began to ring once again and she frowned at the unfamiliar number when she checked to see who it was. It was the same number that had called in the park, but she didn’t answer. If it was important they would leave a message. She shoved her phone back into her pocket as she walked out of the stairwell and she almost turned back around and left again when she saw her mother standing at the door of her apartment. Her mother was frowning down at her phone and Amara wondered if it had been her mother trying to call her. Why would she have changed her number though? Unless it was in hopes that Amara would actually answer it if she didn’t know it was her.

“Mom? You stalking me?”

Her mother turned to her, shock clearly written on her face, and rushed to her. “Amara! What on Earth are you doing? You’re soaking wet! You know you get sick.”

“I haven’t gotten sick from playing in the rain since I was like six.”

“Hush now.” Her mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the door of her apartment. “Go on.” Amara sighed, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she unlocked the door. Her mother pushed her into the apartment and rushed her into the bathroom and grabbed a towel then thought better of it and started the shower.

“Mom!”

“What?”

“I’m fine. Stop.” Amara shrugged out of her jacket and threw it in the bathtub so her floor wouldn’t get more soaked then it already was then toed off her sneakers. “Go on. I’ll be out in a minute.” Her mother nodded with a heavy sigh then walked out of the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

What the hell had her daughter been doing? She hadn’t spoken to her since she had called her when she’d been in London. Whatever had happened there must have been bad or Amara would have called her as soon as she got home. It must be so much worse than what little Michelle and Sarina had told her. All she knew as that a man was involved and Amara’s heart was broken. Mary didn’t quite know what to do. Amara was very private about her personal life, even to her mother. The most she knew about her daughter’s relationships was that she had had one in college that hadn’t gone well and she hadn’t had one since.

She sighed again then walked into the living room to wait for her daughter. When she saw the puddles on the hardwood she went to the broom closet and grabbed the mop so the wood wouldn’t warp. When she was finished she walked to Amara’s bookshelves and smiled sadly at the books her father had left Amara when he had passed. The Folio was in its glass case on a shelf and surrounded by the other antique books. A door opened and closed and moments later Amara walked into the living room wearing a fluffy bathrobe with her hair wrapped in a towel.

“What’s up, Mom?”

“No one’s heard from you in nearly a month. I tried calling the bookstore and Sam said you quit your job. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“So you changed your cell number?”

“Figured that out did you?” Mary gave her a weak smile that she returned. God her daughter looked like hell. Whatever had happened to Amara must be wreaking havoc on her.

“Yeah, in the corridor.” Amara sat on the uncomfortable couch, fixing the stupid fluffy robe around her. A fluffy one only because she had found that she had left her silk robe at her husband’s house and had bought this one as a replacement because when she had looked at the silk robes she hadn’t been able to bring herself to buy another. It hurt too badly. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it.

Her mother sat in the chair she usually inhabited and sighed. “What happened in London?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sweetheart, if nothing had happened you wouldn’t be like this. You wouldn’t have pushed the twins away. You wouldn’t be avoiding me.”

“What did they tell you?” Amara fisted her hands, thankful that the faint tan line from her wedding rings had already faded away.

“Just that you met someone. Seemed to care about him a great deal. Something happened and you came back.”

“Nothing happened, Mom. I went to London for a couple weeks then came back. No big deal.”

“Stop lying to me, Amarantha.”

Why? She was lying to everyone else in her life. Why not her mother as well? “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Baby, you can’t do this. You can’t push the people that love you away just because you don’t want to deal with it.”

“I’m fine, Mother.”

“No, you’re not.”

The pitying look her mother gave her made her eyes fill with tears. She was anything but fine. She wiped her tears away angrily. She was tired of crying. It hadn’t done her any good to cry. She still half thought that she didn’t have a right to cry after what she’d done to Tom. Yes, it was the wrong thing to do. She had known that from the moment the thought had entered her mind, but she had panicked when he had told her he loved her. Amara knew that love meant being hurt over and over again. It meant being used until you had given them everything they wanted and then they threw you away.

She didn’t think Tom would do her that way. Then again she hadn’t thought Ville would do it either. It had taken her months to trust her ex with her heart and all it had done was get her heart crushed underneath his feet. She wouldn’t take that chance again. She did love Tom. She loved him so much it fucking hurt, but she couldn’t take that chance.

She missed him and wanted to go back to him, but she didn’t know how or what to even do. She didn’t know if he would even take her back at this point. He had probably gotten tired of waiting for her to send divorce papers and had filed for a divorce on his own.

“I don’t know what to do.” Amara broke down as she admitted it and her mother rushed to her and pulled her into her arms.

“Oh, sweetheart. Tell me what’s happened.” Mary had never seen her daughter look this bad. Had never seen her cry like this since she was a small child. Amara rarely cried and she definitely never wrapped herself around her mother like she was the only thing to hold onto in a world of violent storms. “What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything. I did.”

“Tell me.” Mary pulled the towel from her daughter’s hair then nudged her down to sit in the floor. Amara sighed as she moved to the floor and her mother started towel drying her hair. Mary knew that Amara was more likely to tell her what had really happened if she wasn’t facing her. Even so Amara reached behind her and wrapped one arm around her mother’s leg, fidgeting with her hand and tapping her fingers in a steady rhythm against her shin. The tapping was something Amara had always done to try and force her anxiety away, to have something else to focus on.

Amara waited until her mother stopped rubbing the towel over her hair and draped it over the arm of the couch before speaking.  “You know how the twins always do something for my birthday?”

“Whether you want them to or not.” Mary started combing gentle fingers through her hair and Amara nodded with a wry smile her mother wouldn’t see even as tears still fell.

“They took me to Vegas. Got this really nice hotel room and stuff and . . . I met this guy at the hotel right? Well, I say met. I accidently tackled him in the hallway and then again later in the lobby.” Mary laughed quietly and Amara couldn’t help the small smile that fell as soon as it appeared.

Her heart skipped a few beats at the memory. His lanky body laid out under hers. His wide smile and impossibly blue eyes with little brown specks. His curly hair perfectly tamed even though she hated it like that. Then again in the lobby when she wound up straddling him in a room full of people. Her embarrassment and his happy smile when he realized it was once again the strange girl from earlier. His hands on her arms as he caught her to keep her from falling again after they had stood. His hands moving to her hips and pulling her closer for a kiss that wouldn’t happen. That Amara wouldn’t let happen because she wouldn’t let him get close.

“As an apology I asked him out for coffee. We talked for a couple hours and he was so sweet and he likes a lot of the same things as I do. He loves Doctor Who and Shakespeare, so that’s a bonus. He walked me back to hotel and his room was across the hall from mine and the twins.”

“Fate.” Her mother murmured. Amara turned her head and frowned up at her mother.

“That’s what he kept saying.”

“What happened then?” Mary gently nudged her chin to get her to turn her head back and Amara sighed heavily.

“I went to bed ‘cause I was knackered and I had a nightmare about him.” Amara’s frown deepened. When had she picked up knackered? “It was weird. I was in this room and there were all of these couples dancing and I heard him say my name. I looked across the room and he was standing there holding his hand out to me. I didn’t want to dance with him but I was drawn to him anyway. He wouldn’t let me go. I finally got away from him and then all these doors appeared and when I opened them to try and escape he was standing behind all of them holding his hand out to me.”

“He’s yours then.” Her mother told her quietly.

Amara tensed. “What?” Did her mother know? Had she somehow found out about their marriage?

“You tried to leave him and he was behind every door you tried to take. He’s yours. Did you see him again while you were there?”

“The next night, but before that I got presents delivered to our suite. My necklace and an Adipose plushy and a Doctor Who cake. It was from him.” Amara reached up with her free hand and gripped the small TARDIS charm tightly. Was it wrong that she held onto the necklace so tightly when she could barely stand to see the wedding rings she had hidden away? “Michelle and Sarina took me to a club to go dancing later that evening. They just wanted me to get laid for my birthday. I was sitting at the bar watching the twins dancing with some guys and I saw this lanky dude dancing out on the floor, people standing in a circle around him. It was Tom. Again. He saw me at the bar and we talked again and tried to drink each other under the table. We . . .” Amara sighed heavily. She would have to tell her at some point wouldn’t she? “We got married.”

Her mother’s finger stilled in her hair and Amara sniffled and wiped away more tears.

“After one day?” Mary very carefully kept the slight anger at that out of her voice. It wouldn’t do any good to get angry and it would only make her daughter defensive. Besides, her little girl was hurting too badly for her to chew her ass out about it anyway.

“Yeah and I know it’s crazy.”

“Yes.”

“But . . . I don’t know. It just . . . it happened and when I woke up in his bed I freaked out and when I saw the rings I was fucking scared. I left and went back to mine and the twins’ room. He came after me and he made me promise him that we would try things out. See what happened.”

“You wouldn’t have if you hadn’t really wanted to.”

“I know. My heart wanted to. My brain still thinks it’s a horrible idea.”  She gave her mother a weak smile. “I told him to give me a week to think about things. He left after that and the girls and I came home. It was a bad week. He kept trying to call and email and he sent two letters and a dozen pale pink roses. I didn’t answer him or open the emails or letters. He showed up on the seventh day and ambushed me in my apartment.”

Mary laughed making Amara frown up at her and she once again turned Amara’s head to finish combing her hair. “He must care for you.”

“He does. He told me that he loves me. When we were in London together.”

“And you got scared and ran away.”

“Yeah.” Amara closed her eyes with a heavy sigh. “I couldn’t stay there any longer. I hurt him when I left, Ma.”

Mary smiled weakly. Amara hadn’t even realized that she’d reverted to calling her Ma. Something she hadn’t done since she was about eight years old. “What did you do?”

_What didn’t I do?_ “He took me for fish and chips and it was so adorably cheesy and then we went to this park and it was so beautiful and we sat and talked and it rained and we kissed and it was wonderful, but I had a panic attack and ruined it. He didn’t get weird about it though.”

He should have. A lot of people would have. But he hadn’t. He had held her and helped her through it and later when she had dreamed that she was drowning he held her and comforted her until she fell back to sleep. The whole damned thing had made her realize how much she loved him even though she had tried not to.

“What happened after?”

“A bunch of shit I regret. Shit I should never have done. The whole thing is a huge fucking mess. A few days after that he took me on The Eye and he got us one of the capsules to ourselves. Cupid’s Capsule, is what it’s called.”

“You probably called it Cupid’s Crapsule.”

Amara laughed quietly. “I did, but not to his face because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. There was champagne and truffles and roses and it was beautiful. After the capsule we walked in a park and then we went home and we slept together. I tried to sneak out after he’d fallen asleep, but he was just pretending to be asleep. He tried to stop me and I hurt him when I never wanted to.” She tugged her hair from her mother’s hands at that and turned toward her. “I had to make him see.”

“Make him see what?”

“That it wouldn’t work. That just because we cared about each other somehow didn’t mean that it would work out. I told him I didn’t love him and never would. I broke his heart and I left him crying in the living room.”

“Do you love him, Amara?” Mary knew Amara’s habit of not wanting anyone she cared about to be hurt. Amara had to be in love with him if she had hurt him to try and make him see something that wasn’t there. Amara started crying again and nodded, wrapping her arms around her mother’s legs as she rested her head on her knees. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“It hurts. I don’t want it to hurt.”

“Love doesn’t have to hurt, baby.”

“Then why does it?”

“Because you care so much. Because you constantly worry about the people you care about. You worry about every move you make hoping that it won’t hurt anyone. You would rather hurt yourself than the people you love and it kills you every time you do it.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“What don’t you want to do anymore?”

“Love him. It was easier when I didn’t.”

“It’s going to be hard, baby, but you need to let everything else go. All the doubt, all the fear. Just trust what you feel for him.”

Amara huffed. Like it was going to be something she could actually do. Let everything go? How the hell did she do that? She had never been able to let anything go. Nothing but Tom and it hurt more than she could have ever imagined.

“Why can’t it be easier?”

“Love is never easy, baby. Sometimes it is simple, but it’s never easy. Love is one of the most beautiful, terrifying things on this world. It’s frightening and it’s hopeful. It can make you the happiest or the most miserable.”

“Why?”

“That’s just the way it is, darling.”

“What do I do?”

“Do you want to be with him?”

“Yeah.” Amara was every nearly sobbing. “I can’t though.”

“Why not?”

Amara lifted her head and frowned up at her mother. What was she thinking? Amara barely even knew Tom. He definitely didn’t know shit about her, so why was her mother saying that they should stay together? “We’ve only known each other since my birthday. I can’t be with him. We hardly know each other.”

“Yet you still trusted him enough not to hurt you when you went to London with him.”

“It doesn’t mean that I can trust him with my heart. Or the rest of my life.”

“Amara, you love him and he says he loves you. Sometimes the rest comes later. Tell me about him.”

“He’s brilliant. He’s beautiful. I think he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He’s tall and strawberry blonde. He’s got curls, but he keeps them combed out and I don’t like that. I like his curls. They’re adorable. He’s got gorgeous blue eyes with little brown speckles in them and a perfect smile. His eyes crinkle when he smiles and he’s sorta got dimples. It’s kinda dorky, but he’s got this thing when he’s laughing like he’ll throw his head back and just . . .  and when he giggles he kinda pokes his tongue through his teeth, I dunno. It’s cute. He’s got freckles. He’s funny and makes me laugh. We can sit and talk for hours. He listens to everything I say and whether he agrees with some of the things I say or not he doesn’t get pushy about it. He’s very kind and very patient with me. Even when I wish he wasn’t. He’s so caring. When Tom and I are together it’s like . . . I’m the only person he cares about. I’m the only person that matters. When he was working I sat at home and read or walked around a bit and weeded the flowerbed and I’d cook dinner and then when he got home we’d eat and talk about each other’s days and just . . . it got rather domestic, I got comfortable and it scared me.”

Amara sighed heavily reaching for the wet towel from the arm of the couch and scrubbed her face with it.  “I’m so fucking stupid, Ma.”

“Fear makes a lot of people do stupid things, baby. It’s why I stayed with your father for so long. I was scared to stay with him, but I was even more afraid to leave him.”

“Did you love him?”

“At first. He was amazing and so gentle. Then he started drinking and staying drunk all the time.” Mary sighed a little sadly, remembering all the times she hid bruises from her daughter. All the fights she had with her husband and all the times she got his attention back on her when he would try to go after their little girl. She shook her head and sighed again. “Do you have a picture of your husband? I want to see this boy that’s got you so enamored.”

“Yeah. I can . . .” Amara laughed quietly wondering if her mother would believe her if she put one his movies in the dvd player. Henry IV.  Her mother probably wouldn’t believe it. “Stay here.” Amara stood and rushed to the TV and set up the movie then ran into her bedroom. She moved to the writing desk and opened the secret drawer then took the picture and jewelry box with her. She knew her mother would want to see the rings too. She ran back into the living room then pushed play on the movie and went to sit next to her mother on the couch, holding the picture to her chest to hide it when her mother tried to peek at it.

“Why this movie?”

“I like it and . . . Tom’s in it.” Mary raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly, clearly not believing her daughter and Amara’s smile fell when she saw Tom walking through the pub to go to Falstaff’s room.

“Sweetheart, I think you should rest.”

“I’m not so tired that I’m delusional, mother.” Amara sighed then showed her mother the wedding photo.

Mary took the photo from her daughter and smiled down at it. Amara looked happy in it. Happier than she had ever seen her. She was completely trashed, but she looked happy. The man in the photo with her, wrapped around her just as tightly as Amara was wrapped around him, looked happy too. Drunk, just like her daughter. He was tall and lanky, quite a few inches taller than Amara, and was leaned down so they were relatively the same height. His cheek was pressed to hers and Mary shook her head with a small smile. They fit well together. Her eyes dropped to Amara’s hand that was resting on her husband’s side and Mary just about balked at the size of the diamonds on her ring.

“Jesus, sweetheart.”

Amara unlocked her jewelry box and lifted the rings, biting her bottom lip and blinking away the tears that filled her eyes. She slipped them back onto her hand and sighed, the familiar weight of them comforting her more than what she could say.  “I know. I tried to talk him out of these. Get something smaller, you know? He wouldn’t listen. The date and our names are engraved on the inside of the bands. He’s such a sap, Ma.” She sniffled reaching up to wipe tears from her cheeks.

“So are you, baby.”

“Didn’t used to be. He did it.” She looked to the TV when she heard him speaking to Falstaff, laughingly admonishing him for being concerned about the time of day. “See?” Mary followed her gaze and her brows rose seeing that her daughter had been telling her the truth about who he was.

“He’s an actor.”

“Yup. Isn’t he adorable?” Amara sighed wistfully.

“He is, but, sweetheart . . .”

“He doesn’t lie to me, Mama. He wouldn’t.”

“Okay, baby. What are you going to do? Are you going back to London? Is he even still there?”

“He’s doing a play there. At Donmar. Coriolanus. It’ll be running for a couple months so I know he’s still there, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should just go ahead and file for a divorce or go back and tell him how much I love him and how sorry I am for fucking up so badly.”

“Don’t give up on him. This is the first time I’ve seen you happy.” She waved the picture and Amara sighed. “Your eyes light up when you talk about him. They lit up when you saw him on the TV. Go to London, baby. Talk to him. Tell him you’re sorry. Tell him everything. Getting any information from you is like pulling teeth and I know you didn’t tell him a damn thing about yourself.”

“Not really, no. I didn’t want to get close to him. He didn’t give me a choice, though.” Amara smiled weakly then put her rings back in her jewelry box. It didn’t seem right to wear them when they were split up.

“Go to him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? It will make you happy, I can’t stand to see you so miserable and not be able to do anything about it. You’ve never been happy, sweetheart. Not really. It’s time for that, don’t you think?”

Amara nodded slowly. Her turn to be happy. How did that even work? How could she be happy when she was scared to death of her happiness being crushed under not only her own feet, but Tom’s as well? She’d have to get over it wouldn’t she? Push past the fear, say ‘fuck it’ and go on. Right? “I’ll think about it.”

 


	28. Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update. Woot! 
> 
> I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, etc. that I may have missed.

After her mother left Amara went into her bedroom, carrying the jewelry box with her. She put her rings back in it and closed the lid only to stare down at the box that held so much of what her life had become in only a few short weeks. She needed to lock them away until she found out what was going to happen between her and her husband. She couldn’t bear the thought. She once again opened the silver box that was engraved with vines and flowers and pulled her wedding rings from the royal purple velvet lining. She slipped them back on then closed the drawer and sat her jewelry box and the photo on the desk.

It was three days before she could bring herself to call the twins and apologize for running them out of her apartment. She was surprised the twins had even answered their phones. They showed up at her apartment minutes after she had hung up the phone and wrapped her in tight hugs telling her that she was a dumbass and she needed to hurry up and go to her husband. Amara agreed and had to stop the twins from physically dragging her into her bedroom to start packing. She didn’t want to tell them she didn’t need to pack because she hadn’t actually unpacked her bags after getting home. They figured it out anyway when they left her sitting on the couch and walked into her bedroom to find her suitcase and carry-on bag thrown haphazardly toward her closet.

“Amara, what the hell?” Sarina walked back into the living room with her twin following closely and they sat in the overstuffed chairs across from her.

Amara shrugged then picked up her glass of iced tea. “I never got around to it. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It would have been one more step away from him and I couldn’t take it. I’d already taken enough.”

“When are you going back?” Michelle fiddled with a braid of purple hair that she hadn’t had the last time Amara had seen her as she spoke and Amara shrugged once more.

“I don’t know. I need to . . .” She didn’t need to do anything. There was no one to call. No job to call in to. No reason to wait. She’d made her up mind, had come to her senses, but still couldn’t bring herself to actually take the next step and buy a plane ticket. “I need to go.”

“You do. Why haven’t you?”

“I don’t know. Except . . . what if he doesn’t even speak to me? What if he’s already filed for a divorce or what if he won’t take me back even if we do talk?”

“Amara, have you googled him?”

“Not recently.” She said it with a wicked grin and Michelle giggled.

“Oh, my God. Not that! Jesus, have you looked him up online?”

“No. I don’t want to see that side of him. He’s not my Tom when he’s like that.”

“But you watch his movies.”

“It’s different. I don’t know why, but it is. I see him, of course, but I see his characters. The person he’s pretending to be. When I see him online? He’s not a character or my Tommy. He’s this whole other persona and I don’t like it. I mean he’s kind as always and he’s so gorgeous, but he’s different. I feel like . . . I just . . . I don’t want to see him like that.”

“He looks miserable,” Sarina murmured. “You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but he looks terrible. His eyes don’t shine like they used to and he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.”

“He still wears his wedding ring.”

Amara barely kept her glass from slipping through numb fingers. “What?” Did he really? What would it mean for her if he did? For both of them? She sat her glass on the coaster on her coffee table and looked down to her own wedding and engagement rings. Did he want her back? Was he waiting for her to come to her senses and go back to him? Could he just not bear to take his ring off just yet? Or did he not want people to think his marriage had fallen apart so quickly after it had begun?

“So far as anyone can tell he’s never taken it off. He hasn’t been seen not wearing it since you guys got married.”

“Are you stalking him? When you’re not talking to him on the phone and listening to him bitch about me, I mean.”

“He hasn’t called us in over a week, Am. He’s busy with Coriolanus.”

“He’s texted though, a couple times. To see how you’re doing.”

“Why? Why isn’t he so pissed off at me that he’d rather not hear about me? Maybe he hates me now so he’s hoping I’m miserable.”

“Even if he hated you, which he doesn’t, it would mean he still loves you. You don’t hate people you don’t care about in some way.” Sarina murmured as she ran a hand through her hair. “He still loves you, Amara. He might be beyond pissed off at you for breaking your promises to him and walking out on him, but he does love you. Even if you are a stubborn git.”

“What?”

“His words, not mine.”

“Am I that bad?” When neither twin answered she laughed quietly and shook her head. “Jesus. Is this really my life?”

“’Fraid so.” Michelle gave her a reassuring smile. “So, when do you leave?”

Good question.

She really didn’t have anything to hold her here. Not anymore. She had quit her job after four days of suffering through inventory and Sam on her own. She knew Sam had only had her best interests at heart where Tom was concerned, but being snippy wasn’t the way to go about showing her. Amara could always come visit her mother and the twins.

Amara hated her apartment now. The memories of her time there only serving to show her how miserable she actually was. Of course if she let Tom’s sometimes annoying sense of optimism shine through then the memories of her time with him here was wonderful. Once she got past him completely shocking her by showing up unannounced. Of course memories were a pale comparison to what she had left behind in London. She wouldn’t get rid of her apartment just yet though, no matter how much she hated it.

She had to call for a flight to London, rent a car when she got there, show up on his doorstep unannounced, beg his forgiveness, and hope he’d take her back. If he accepted her then she would have to come back at some point and pack her things to have them shipped to his house because she knew he wouldn’t her to live separate from him. Not that she wanted to move in with him immediately, but still. That could wait, Amara realized. She was thinking too far ahead. Again. Was all of this as ridiculous as she thought it sounded?

Best stop that and take things one step at a time. If not for herself then for Tom. He deserved much more than what she had given him. He had not deserved the way she had left him nor the words she had said to him as she did so. She hoped and prayed that he would forgive her for being so cruel and so damned stupid.

Amara sent a text to her mother telling her that she had some things to take care of and would see her soon(ish) and that she loved her and was going back to London. That was as good as her writing skills were going to get for now. Probably she should have just called her, but oh well.

Amara wanted to rush the twins out of her apartment before she got ready to leave but she knew they would want to stay with her so she let them be and ignored their oh so happy faces as she called the airline for a ticket to London on the soonest flight out. The soonest flight because if she didn’t leave now she thought she never would. She’d even suffer through twelve hours of coach if she had to. Thankfully they found her a flight that would leave in six hours and she got the last seat in first class. Thank God for small favors. She would leave her extra set of keys with the twins so they could take care of her apartment. For now at least.

“Why couldn’t you admit that you love him weeks ago? It would have saved the two of you from so much drama.”

Amara looked to Michelle and sighed. “I know. I know. I was fucking stupid. I won’t be again.”

“Good.”

“It’s about damn time.”

Amara only rolled her eyes at the twins then asked them to take her to the airport so they could say their temporary goodbyes.

Amara was so nervous she was shaking and knew that she was going to suffer through the flight. She was going to run through a million speeches by the time she made it to London. All of them ending with ‘I love you and I’m sorry for being such a twat’. She thought it sounded good.

Sometimes though, plans don’t always work out the way they’re supposed to. Tom had told her that on more than one occasion. She hadn’t believed him until she had run away. By the time Amara made it to London she was exhausted. Physically and mentally. She had been unable to sleep, being too excited and scared about what was to come. Hopefully Tom would forgive her and she would do whatever it took to earn his forgiveness. No matter how long it took.

She waited for her luggage at the carousel and raised an eyebrow when she heard someone call her name. No one should have even known she was there. She turned her head to see a young woman she’d never met before in her life rushing toward her. Amara raised an eyebrow wondering who the hell she was and how she knew Amara’s name.

“Oh my God. It’s really you.”

“It’s really me. Have we met before?”

“No. I’ve just seen pictures of you and Tom. I had to talk to you.”

“Uh huh.” Oh God. It was one of his fans. What the hell was she supposed to do? She’d never had to talk to them before. She bit her bottom lip nervously then turned to the carousel as it started moving and watched for her bags. Hopefully they would come soon before she did something that wouldn’t look good on Tom.

“Have you seen Cariolanus yet,” the girl asked. Amara shook her head.

“Not yet. I will soon. I wanted to be here for opening, but I had to get some things sorted at home.” The girl nodded. “Have you seen it?” The girl nodded again, excitedly this time.

“Oh my God, yes! It’s wonderful. Absolutely brilliant. You should be so proud of him.”

“I am. So very proud of him.” She really was proud of him. Her bags came around and she grabbed them then started walking, the girl following her closely.

“Are you going home?”

“Yeah.” Provided Tom hadn’t changed any of the security codes. She hadn’t thought of that until now.

“Can I ask a favor?”

“It depends on what it is, sweetie.” The girl was probably only sixteen, maybe seventeen or eighteen, but Amara doubted it.

“Em . . .” The girl blushed and Amara gave her a reassuring smile. “I wrote Tom a letter and I was too scared to give it to him when he was signing last night and I wonder if you could give it to him.”

“Has it got your address so he can write you back?” Amara knew that he liked to read all of his fan mail and respond to it. It might take a while for him to write back, but he nearly always did if it was requested of him.

“Yes.” The girl handed Amara the letter with a happy smile and Amara smiled back.

“I’ll give it to him as soon as I see him.”

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

The girl wandered off and Amara went to the rental counter so she could pick up the car she’d reserved before she left home. Fifteen minutes later she was driving toward his house, turning the car stereo on and off. She was too nervous for silence, but the radio made it worse. She’d never driven in London before and was scared shitless. More so than she was just going back to Tom’s anyway. Tom had always driven them. She sighed heavily and prayed she was doing the right thing.

When Amara reached the house she pulled into the drive and rolled her window down to punch in the code to open the gate. The light stayed red and she tried again thinking that she’d put it in wrong. The mocking light stayed red just to torment her and she growled then hit the button for the intercom hoping that Tom was home and that he would let her in if he was. When no one answered she sighed and slammed her head against the seat after looking at the time on the radio. “Shit!”

He was already at Donmar. So where the fuck was it? She looked for directions on her cell and blanched. Maybe she should just call a cab? She’d probably only get lost if she tried to drive. Though it was kind of idiotic to call a cab when she had a perfectly fine car. Better to err on the side of caution this time though. She called for a cab and climbed out of the car, locking the doors and walked down the block to wait for the car. Ten minutes later the car pulled to a stop in front of her and she climbed in and told the driver to take her to the warehouse. Amara had thought it was interesting when Tom told her that the play was in a building that used to be a banana ripening warehouse.

Amara paid the driver and climbed out of the car with a heavy sigh. There was a crowd standing around the side of the building and she walked toward the mass of mostly young women with a raised eyebrow. Was Tom outside? When she saw nothing but a back door that was most likely locked she sighed and leaned back against the building and closed her eyes. It would have been too easy if her Tommy had been standing outside.

After a few minutes she heard whispers and people shuffling around and peeked an eye open to see a couple of the girls looking her way. Maybe she should just go back to his house and wait for him there.

“Excuse me?” Amara opened her eyes the rest of the way and turned to see the young girl from the airport and smiled. At least it was someone she sort of knew.

“Hey.”

“Hey. I thought you’d be inside?”

“Nope. Not tonight. I was just going to hang around outside.”

“He doesn’t know you’re here does he?” Amara shook her head and the girl laughed. “You’re surprising him.” Amara nodded this time with a small smile. She hoped her surprise didn’t blow up in her face. Again, nothing ever worked out as planned and she was pretty sure the fuse was already lit.

“I thought you saw him last night.”

“I did, but I came with a friend tonight. I was picking her up from the airport earlier.”

“Oh, all right. Do you happen to know what time this ends?”

“He’ll probably be out in about twenty minutes or so.”

“That long?” Amara was impatient to get it over with. She wanted to know if she’d just made a complete fool of herself. More than she already had.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” They stood in silence for a few minutes until Amara grew even more nervous and began to pace. “I’ve still got your letter.” She pulled it from her rucksack and showed the girl.

“Oh, wait until I’m gone before you give it to him!” The girl blushed heavily and Amara nodded with a laugh and slid it back into her pack.

“I will. If you get up to him before I do, tell him I’m here. I’m going to hang out around the back of the crowd.” The girl nodded with a gentle smile then moved further into the crowd leaving Amara to her thoughts. Which probably wasn’t the best thing, but if Amara could fuck her relationship up she could fix it. Hopefully.

What if he didn’t want to see her? What if he refused to even speak to her? To let her explain. The way she should have done to begin with. She should have told him the truth. She should have sat down with him and told him what had happened in her past that had made her so leery of relationships. Of men in general. Yes, she’d told him about her father, but she hadn’t told him about Ville. She hadn’t told him a damn thing unless he had asked her and even then it was only half an answer or she would talk her away around it without actually telling him. He hadn’t asked about her past relationship. Maybe he’d been hoping she would volunteer the information.

She should have trusted him enough to tell him. He hadn’t done a thing to make her not trust him. He had been open and honest the entire length of their three week marriage. Three weeks because the time that they had been apart didn’t count.

She wished she had been brave enough to meet his sisters and parents. To meet the people who had made him what he was. She wished she had been brave enough to do a lot of things she should have done to begin with. She guessed it didn’t matter in the long run. She was here now.

The crowd growing louder broke her from her musings and she opened her eyes and turned to see Tom standing at the open door. Two burly security guards standing just behind him. Were things that crazy for him? Was he having problems with over enthusiastic fans?

Amara looked for the girl from the airport and saw her about six people in front of Tom. Oh God please let him see her. Please let him not push her away. She slid to the back of the crowd and watched with a small nervous smile as Tom was congratulated on a wonderful show and showered with small gifts and letters. He took pictures with most everyone that was lined up and when the girl from the airport reached him she said something that made him grin and laugh. What she said next Amara didn’t know but Tom jerked his head up and looked around. Amara thought she would faint when her husband’s eyes locked onto hers.


	29. Second Chances Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna wait another day or two to make you all suffer a little bit but I decided not to. ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆
> 
> Please forgive any grammatical and/or spelling errors.

Tom stared at his wife in shock, unable to hide it. What was she doing here? Did she come back for him? Was she here to try and patch the holes in their relationship? She gave him a weak smile and wave and he could only shake his head. He didn’t know what to think or do except that part of him wanted to run to her and take her into his arms and never let her go again. The other part of him wanted to throttle her for waltzing back into his life after nearly a month and no word from her since those cruel words she had spoken right before she walked out of the door. He was torn between wanting to kiss her and wanting to kill her and he didn’t think he had ever been so frustrated with indecision in his life.

She motioned him to go back to his fans and he gave her a subtle nod then did the best acting of his entire career. He smiled and chatted and took photos with the fans until security told him he had been out there long enough. He apologized profusely then walked back into the building without sparing a glance at Amara. If she could walk away without looking back then so could he. Was that as petty as he was thinking it was? Yeah, but she deserved it.

He walked into the dressing room and grabbed his rucksack then pulled his mobile from the outer pocket. He sent Amara a text telling her that he would be out in twenty minutes and if she left again he was hunting her down this time instead of letting her go. She answered back with a promise she would stay, but he didn’t believe her. God, how he wanted to believe her. He sat at his station in the dressing room and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t need twenty minutes. He was ready to go home now, but he wasn’t ready to face his wife just yet. He needed a moment to steel himself.

More than a moment. He didn’t think he would ever be ready for whatever conversation they would have. He sighed heavily and lay his head on the counter top. What was she doing back? He had barely begun to get used to the idea of her being gone, had waited with dread in his heart for the annulment papers she had promised. When those had not shown up he waited for divorce papers. Now she was back and he didn’t have the faintest clue as to why or what would happen now. It half frightened him. The other half was angry and wanted him to march outside and drag her back to the house and never let her leave again.

He would make her talk. She had avoided speaking about her past as much as possible in the scant weeks they had spent together before she ran way. He wouldn’t give her a choice. If she was indeed here to try and salvage their relationship she was damn well going to tell him everything. He took a steadying breath then stood and walked out of the room, slinging his rucksack over his shoulder.

He went out the front door because there were less people to struggle through and moved around the side of the building to see Amara leaning against the wall. The young girl that had told him Amara was there was standing next to her, talking softly. His wife nodded at something the girl said then laughed. The girl blushed at something Amara said next and Tom shook his head. His wife was probably telling her an inappropriate joke. She was fond of them. The girl said something else then walked off with a smile on her face. Tom wondered what the two had been talking about. In the end it didn't particularly matter and he moved to his wife quietly and grabbed her arm. She jumped with a gasp then turned to him. He shook his head when she started to speak and began walking her back the way he had come.

She frowned up at him as he half-led half-dragged her down the sidewalk and he sighed and slowed his gait so it wouldn’t look like he was forcibly dragging her away.

“Tommy.”

“Don’t.”

“But.”

“Don’t speak.”

“Thomas.” She fought not to pry at the just-shy-of-tight grip he had on her arm.

“No. You don’t get to speak right now.” Once he was sure they were clear of any straggling fans he started walking faster and loosened his grip on her arm.

“Are you going to frog march me all the way to the house?”

“I might if you don’t stop talking.”

“Fine.” She glared up at him and he waved his hand at a passing cab. It pulled to a stop and he put Amara in the back then slid in after her. He gave the driver the address to his house then turned back to his beautiful, cruel, sable-haired wife.

“You look dreadful.” She only nodded then looked to her watch and spun her finger around the dial twice. “You’ve been awake for a full day?” She nodded again. “Having problems sleeping? I don’t know why you would. You walked away easily enough. I don’t suppose you care that I’ve had problems sleeping since you left?” She glared at him again. “Was that not fair?” He was being petty and he knew it, but she deserved it for being so damnably stupid.

The cab pulled to a stop at the house, unable to pull into the driveway due to a white car sitting in front of the gate. Tom bit his lip in worry. “Whose car is that?”

“Mine. It’s a rental. I couldn’t get in the gate. The code’s been changed.”

“You weren’t here. I changed it.”

“Did you change the code for the alarm system?”

“You couldn’t get through the gate. There was no reason to change the code for the alarm.”

 _Asshole_. The only reason Amara didn’t say it out loud was because she knew she deserved a fair bit of whatever he would throw at her. She didn’t blame him for being beyond upset with her. She didn’t blame him for anything really. It had been her own past and her own failures that had driven her to do what she had done. Her own fear that had driven her away from him. Loving him, and she was still amazed at the fact that she honestly did, was the most terrifying thing to happen to her. It had been at least. Now she was terrified she might have lost him completely.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Tom dragged her out of the cab and to the gate. She stumbled, tripping over her own feet, and he righted her then leaned her against the car that sat empty. She backed away from him as much as she could when he leaned toward her then gasped when he pressed his lips to hers softly, barely brushing, and then pulled away. “Get in.” Amara nodded then spun around and unlocked the doors. She started to sit in the driver’s seat and he grabbed her arm with a shake of his head and led her around the car. He opened her door then sat her down and waited until she was seated properly then closed the door on her muttered protests.

What was he doing? Tom shook his head derisively. He hadn’t the faintest idea except that he didn’t want her to escape this time and he wasn’t about to tell her the code for the gate. Some miniscule part of him thought he might be going overboard, but the rest of him smothered that tiny voice. She had gone overboard with her denial of what she felt for him. With her cruel words to him as she left.

He knew he had pressured her and had known that if he pushed too hard she would run. He didn’t think he had pushed her that hard. He did have some part of him to blame for her leaving just as much as he blamed her, but the vindictive creature that sat on his shoulder refused to let him take as much blame as he wanted to. Maybe it was right.

Tom started the car then rolled down the window and punched in the new code with a glance over his shoulder at his wife. She was staring pointedly out of the windshield so he needn’t worry about her finding out the new code. If she thought about it enough she would find out what it was at any rate. Their wedding date was no secret. Probably it was a bit naïve of him, but even so he had been unable to help himself and knew that he would never forget it. The gate opened and he pulled up the drive slowly, his hands clutched so tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white. He parked next to his Jaguar and shut the car off with more force than what was necessary.

Barely restrained anger boiled under the surface of his skin and he knew were he to give into it he and Amara would have a fight for the ages. Well, maybe not that dramatic, but even so.

“You’re staying in my bedroom. You will not leave this house unless you’re going somewhere with me. I don’t want you out of my sight for even a moment.”

“Thomas, I’m not leaving.”

“Until I know that for certain you will remain by my side.”

“Baby.”

“Don’t call me that! How can you even call me that after what’s happened? Why the fuck are you even here?” He hadn’t meant to snap at her and sighed when she flinched away from him. “Why?”

“To apologize for one.” She told him finally looking at him.

“And?”

“And to tell you that I . . .” Amara swallowed heavily and shook her head. This wasn’t how this was supposed to be.

“Tell me what?”

“That I l love you.”

“You love me.” He said it as a statement so Amara only sat in silence until he spoke again. “You tore my heart out and stomped on it and now you’re back to tell me that you’re sorry and you love me.”

“Yes.”

“Jesus.” Tom scrubbed his hands over his face and Amara sighed.

“I am sorry, Tommy. I never meant . . . well, I did mean to hurt you, but . . . I didn’t . . . I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly. I hurt myself. I don’t . . . I don’t mean to be so fucked up. I hurt the both of us because of it.”

“Do you know how infuriating you are?”

“A little bit.” She said it with a small, sad smile and he leaned closer to her.

“When I saw you standing there I didn’t know whether to kiss you or kill you.” He whispered it and Amara gave him a weak smile then gasped when he grabbed her arms and pulled her closer to him. “I still don’t know.” His lips barely brushed hers and she sighed.

“Kiss me before you kill me.” He groaned then pressed his lips to hers and dragged her across the car and into his lap. She parted her lips and his tongue immediately sought hers out. She and Tom both fighting for dominance over their kiss. He gripped her hips, moving against her and she gasped, jerking away from him and winced when she hit her head on the roof of the car.

“Not here, Tommy. Not in the car.” He nodded and she reached over to open his door then slid out of the car. He followed her closely and took her hand, pulling her with him to the house. She kissed him, wrapping her arms around him and they climbed the steps almost falling because neither would let go of the other. Somehow he managed to open the door and punch in the security code before the alarm went off.

He kicked the door closed then slammed Amara against it as he pulled at her shirt. She helped him draw it over her head and they threw it across the room. She fisted her hands in his hair and drew him back from her.

“What? What’s wrong?” He sounded as breathless as she did.

“I love you.”

“Do you?”

“You know I do, you gorgeous jerk.” He gave her a weak smile, one she thought meant he didn’t believe her, and why would he after what she’d done? Instead of negating what she’d said he kissed her again, his hands moving to her hips to lift her up.

Tom rested his head against her shoulder, fighting to calm his breathing as he slid them down to the floor before his legs gave out and he fell with her. Amara blinked back mournful tears as she stared at her husband, willing her heart and mind to calm. She was just as breathless as he was and it was minutes before she could speak properly.

“Tommy.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” She lifted her hands from his shoulders and kissed the nail marks she had made.

“In this instance I don’t care.”

“Okay.” He lay back on the floor, the cold tiles a wonderful shock against his heated skin, and she wound up straddling his hips, her hands on his chest.

“Are you hurt?” He asked quietly. She shook her head and he shifted her to tuck her against his side on the cold floor. “This doesn’t mean I’m not still completely pissed off at you.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to stay in my room.”

“I want to. I don’t want to lose you, Tommy.”

“You won’t, darling.”

She wanted to believe him. God how she wanted to believe him. He shifted to see her better and she shuddered when her side hit the cold floor.

“Are you all right?”

“The floor’s cold.”

“Mmm.” He pulled her closer then put a finger under her chin and lifted her head. “Tell me again.”

“The floor’s cold.” She said it with a small smile and he glared at her. “I love you.” She murmured it then pressed her lips to his gently. “Tell me, I want to hear you say it.”

Tom sighed and kissed her lightly. The last time he told her that he loved her she had run away. She must have seen that in his eyes.

“I won’t run. I won’t do that to you again.”

“I love you, Amara.” _Right now I hate you a little bit too._ He didn’t say that bit out loud though. He knew it would hurt her feelings and while he was still beyond pissed off at her for waltzing in and out of his life at her whim he couldn’t bring himself to say it to her. “What made you decide to come back?”

“I got into a fight with Michelle and Sarina. They told me some things that I didn’t want to hear, but needed to. I threw them out of my apartment, didn’t talk to them until yesterday actually. Couple weeks after I tossed them out I walked home and Mom was at my door.”

“And?”

“She knew something was wrong. I told her everything. I told her about you. That we were married. That I loved you but I was scared. She didn’t spaz like I thought she would.”

“You told your mum about me?”

“Mmm. Yeah.”

“What did she say?”

“She made me realize that I was being utterly stupid because I was frightened. She was shocked, but she didn’t flip out. She said that it was fate, you and me finding each other so much. I’m her only kid and she wants me to be happy and if marrying someone I had only known for a day made me happy then she’s not going to fight with me over it.” She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. He reached up and took her hand in his, skimming his thumb over her knuckles as he rested their hands on his chest.

“You’re wearing your rings.”

“I’d like to be able to tell you that I never took them off but you would know it was a lie.”

“I would.” She snuggled even closer to him and he smiled gently. “How long have you been wearing them?”

“Since I talked to my mother. A few days. I tried to lock them back up, but I couldn’t do it again.” She muffled a yawn with her free hand then sighed again.

“Why not?”

“I missed you too much.”

Tom fiddled with the rings on his wife’s fingers as she fell asleep and he wondered at her reasoning for wearing her rings again. Had she made the decision to wear them after she realized how deeply she claimed to love him or had she worn them after making her decision to come back to London? He shook his head and carefully shifted her away from him and lifted her from the floor. He bit his bottom lip wondering if he should put her in her bedroom or take her to his. In the end he decided his bedroom so he would be there if she tried to leave again.

She woke when he started moving through the living room and tripped over her jeans, almost flinging her to the floor.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You okay, Tommy?”

“No. No I’m not, but I will be.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She wrapped he arms around his shoulders as he carried her up the stairs to his room. Their room? She wasn’t sure what to call it. His room would have to do for now.

“I know.”

“Oh, baby wait! I need to go to the car.”

“What? Why?”

“A letter.”

“I won’t read another of your letters.” He sat her on the bed then sat next to her.

“No, no, no. Not from me. From a girl at the thing. She was too shy to give it to you so I told her I’d do it.”

“Is it that important that you need to get it right this minute.”

“Well, no. I just wanted to before I forgot.”

“We’ll get it tomorrow.” She nodded as she lay down and Tom sighed heavily then lay down next to her. She snuggled against him as close as she could get without him being inside her and he wrapped his arms around her. “Are you ready to talk now?”

“About?”

“Everything. All the things you hid from me. The questions you avoided. Why you really left.”

“Not really, but you deserve to know.”

“I do.”

“What first?”

“Why did you really leave?”

Amara sighed reaching up to fuss with his hair. “I left because I was terrified. I knew I had fallen in love with you. Had been in love with you almost since day one. I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t prepared for it or you and now I realize you can’t be prepared for something like that. I spent so much time trying to push you away. Trying to make you see that we couldn’t stay together. Trying to convince myself that I didn’t love you. I fucked up.”

“Yes you did. I assume you’ve learned from your mistakes?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about your previous relationship.” There had to have been one. Even with her father being a drunken asshole there had to have been a relationship with someone to make her so desperate to stay away from any kind of relationship thereafter.

“I was in college. Junior year. I had a roommate in the dorm that I hated from day one. She was one of those oh so perfect fake people. Anyways, a couple weeks after the year started this guy comes up to me and starts talking. At first I was just thinking he’d be a cool friend to have. He had pretty green eyes and he was always wearing eyeliner and his hair was long and dark and I had a thing for guys with long hair and eyeliner then. He took me out to a bar, we played a couple games of darts, which I suck at, and then he took me back to my dorm room. We spent all of our spare time together. Eventually I thought I’d fallen in love with him. After a few months we wound up sleeping together. I was too nervous and it wasn’t the best. It was horrible actually. A couple weeks after that he charmed himself into my roommate’s bed while I was in the library working on a paper. Didn’t break up with me or anything, just went from my bed to hers. I caught him leaving when I went back to the dorm.”

“He was an asshole.”

“Yes he was and after that and what dad had done to mom, I avoided men completely. Until you.”

“You mean . . .”

“That you’re only the second guy I’ve slept with? Yeah. I’m not ashamed of it.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“It felt natural with you, Tommy. Like . . . it should have always been you and that terrified me too. I was comfortable giving myself to you the night we got married, even if I was completely drunk. And then before I fucked up, it was as natural as breathing. I wasn’t scared of you, not that way, but I told myself I was. I told myself I wasn’t ready to sleep with you because I knew if I did I would be completely lost to you and I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t allow myself to be in that kind of position. I was scared to death you’d break my heart.”

“So you did it for me.”

Amara nodded with a heavy sigh. “Yeah. I thought it wouldn’t hurt me as much that way. I knew . . . I knew it would hurt you, but I didn’t realize how much because I couldn’t believe that you actually loved me.”

“And do you now?”

“Yes.”

Tom woke with his alarm and shut it off quickly before it woke his sleeping wife. Jesus, he couldn’t believe she had come back. He turned toward her slowly and kissed her forehead then climbed off of the bed. He hoped she would sleep. It looked like she hadn’t slept since she had walked out on him. The vicious little voice in the back of his mind said ‘Good. She deserved not to get any sleep.’ the rest of him hoped she slept as well as he had last night with her snuggled into his embrace.

The same part of him that hoped she rested well wondered just how long that vindictive voice was going to be pissed off at her. Probably a little while. It would take even longer than that before he was willing to trust her again. He had trusted her before, maybe not wrongly, but irrationally. She hadn’t given him a reason not to. Not until she left. How was he supposed to trust her unreservedly now that she was back? Could he ever truly let himself trust her again?

Why had she come back? He did believe that she loved him, but he didn’t know what to think. Had she only come back because of how miserable she’d found herself to be? Had she come back because she was lonely now?  Had she come back because the twins and her mother thought she should? Was it honestly because she loved him that she had come back? He didn’t know and it scared him. He didn’t know what to think or believe but another little voice in the back of his mind told him to send her home until she figured out what it was she really wanted. Even if part of him hated to do it because she had just come back him. She had spent her entire existence hiding from herself and everyone else in her life and he didn’t think she knew who she really was or what she really wanted.

He could wake her and ask her. Talk things out some more. He didn’t have time. He had already set his alarm for an hour later than he should have. He wanted to wake her and drag her with him, but knew he wouldn’t be able to. He was afraid if he left her here alone she would run off again when she woke and remembered what had happened between them. Maybe it was better to send her home. He lifted his hand to shake her awake then stopped when a thought entered his mind. It was petty, he knew it was, but he couldn’t bring any part of himself to care that it was.

Minutes later he placed the note on his pillow and brushed his hand over her tangled hair. She was either going to be so angry at him that she would stay only long enough to throw a fit at him and then leave again or she would do ask he asked and go back to the states to take some time and figure things out for herself.

He sighed and brushed his lips over hers, barely touching, then moved his lips to her ear. “Sleep on, sleep on, another hour. I would not break so calm a sleep, to wake to sunshine and to show’r, to smile and weep. Sleep on, sleep on, like sculptured thing. Majestic, beautiful art thou; Sure seraph fans thee with his wing and fans thy brow. Sleep on, sleep on, some fairy dream perchance is woven in thy sleep. But, O, thy spirit, calm, serene, must wake to weep.”

And weep she would.

Amara woke to find herself on the bed in Tom’s room. Had she fallen asleep on him while they were talking? She sighed wondering how long she’d been asleep and reached for the clock on the nightstand. It was almost noon. She rolled over hoping to find Tom still in bed. His arms not wrapped around her should have been her first clue that he was gone. What she found instead turned her blood to ice. A note lay on his pillow. She sat up and snatched it from the pillow and crumbled it into a ball then threw it across the room. Jerk.

It served her right to be honest, but still. What did it say? Did he want her to stay here? Was he telling her to get the fuck out and never come back? She scrambled off of the bed and ran to pick up the note. She smoothed it out and frowned as she read over his elegant yet still messy scrawl. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. She wasn’t going to cry. She was going to be pissed off.

How dare he? What the hell? Was he really sending her home after what she’d struggled with over the last month? Maybe he was right. Maybe she did need to take some time to figure herself out. But hadn’t she just done that? Hadn’t she struggled through enough? Apparently he didn’t think so. And a note? Really? How shitty was that? The fact that she was being more than a little bit hypocritical didn’t pass her by. She knew she was, but still. Tom had always been one for talking things out and now he was leaving her notes on pillows and essentially kicking her to the curb.

“The fuck, Tommy?” She didn’t even care that she’d spoken to an empty house. She folded the note and started to sit it aside then saw a series of numbers hastily scratched onto the back of it. She frowned down at them until she realized it was the length of the code for the gate. It was also their wedding date. Tears slid down her cheeks without her permission and she sighed. Yeah, she was totally going to cry. “Sentimental dork.”

She wasn’t sure if she meant herself or her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably a bit irritating but it's got a purpose. Trust me.
> 
> The poem that Tom whispers to Amara while she’s sleeping is called Sleep On by Edgar Allan Poe. I did skip two stanzas in order to make it fit better so I recommend reading it in its entirety. It can be found [here](http://www.eapoe.org/works/mabbott/tom1p059.htm).


	30. Exile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize profusely for inadvertently lying about how long it would take me to finish this chapter. I forgot about this thing I'm supposed to celebrate called Thanksgiving and it kind of fell apart from there. (⊙﹏⊙✿)

Twelve hours after reading Tom’s note and debating on whether to wait for him to come home so she could try and speak with him about things or just give up and go home she was sitting in the airport waiting for the twins to pick her back up. She was physically and mentally exhausted and the imaginary conversations she’d been having with Tom in her head during the long flight and subsequent delays and layovers had given her a migraine. She wanted a beer or a very large glass of a strong red wine and her bed. It didn’t even particularly matter which order she got them in. Actually, she decided, what she really wanted was to be sitting on her husband’s lap and kissing and licking the clinging drops of Jameson from his lips and then going to bed and taking him with her. But no. She was stuck in the airport because she’d been exiled.

She had decided that maybe going home was the best course of action. For now at least. Which was shit. She thought she should have stayed with Thomas and tried to convince him that she was there for the long haul and knew what she wanted but as she had sat on the bed and tried to stem her tears she had realized that the only thing she was sure of, the one thing she knew she wanted, was her husband. Beyond that she had no clue and maybe that was what he had meant about her taking time to figure things out. Part of it anyway.

The other part, the part he seemed most worried about, was why she had gone to him. Did she go back because she honestly loved him and wanted to be with him or had she really only gone back because her mother and the twins insisted she should? Did she go back to London because she was lonely? Because she missed being there with him? Did she only go back because she finally knew what it was like to be miserable without him by her side?

She had only thought she’d been miserable when she was with him. When she had been trying to hide how she really felt from him. Now she finally understood the lovesick, sappy, gag inducing, romance people always talked about and wished for. No one had ever told her how horribly miserable it made you. No one had ever told her that she would one day have that gag inducing love in her life and be worse for it.

Oh, she knew love came with its share of pain and tears. She just hadn’t realized how much of it people put on themselves. She didn’t realize that being in love made you stupid. Would make her stupid, she amended. She had seen other people foolishly in love with someone and swore it would never happen to her, but as soon as the ‘L’ word had cemented itself in her heart her brain had short circuited and fried whatever intelligence she had once thought she’d had to a crisp. She was pretty sure there were ashes of it floating around in her skull somewhere.

She rubbed her chest over her heart and glared down at her feet. Her heart was laughing. Mocking her. Making little flutters and forcing new chemicals to form in her brain and acid wash whatever was left of her sanity. Making her wish she could get right back on a plane headed for London so she could fight with her husband. For her husband. But he wanted to her take time. Now, of all the freaking times, he wanted her to have time to think. Why now? Where was this idea before? When she had begged and pleaded for time. And he hadn’t given her a set amount of time for this ‘finding herself’ mission he’d sent her on.

She wished she had a deadline. A finite amount of time to figure out what she wanted for herself. For her future. Tom should have given her a specific amount of time. Now she would constantly question how long was too long and would he give up on her before she got her shit together? How far she’d fallen that she actually wanted a schedule to figure things out.

Her cell vibrated against her hip and she pulled it out of her pocket to see a message from Tom. Why had it taken him so long to write back? She smiled grimly as she opened it and read his reply to the text she had sent from Heathrow before she boarded her flight back to the States.

_I hope you’ve made it home safely. The show went amazingly, darling. I’m glad that you’re not completely pissed off at me for the note and thank you for understanding. I love you. Don’t make me wait too long._

She sighed heavily and went to reply. _Made it home. Mostly. Stuck at the airport waiting on the twins. So happy for your show. You’re welcome. Love you, too. How long is too long? And you’re still a jerk._ It was barely a minute before she got his reply. What she saw made her frown and shove her phone back into her pocket.

_You’ll know when. <3_

She’d know when? How the hell was she supposed to know when? When divorce papers showed up? She didn’t think he’d ever divorce her. No matter how badly she pissed him off.

She thought back to the little heart at the end of his message and wanted to gag but smiled instead then stood and walked out of the airport dragging her bags behind her. She stepped outside just in time to see the twins pulling up to the curb at the stupid designated pick-up area. It had always irritated Amara that there was a specific line of paint that they were allowed to park to wait on someone or drop someone off.

Michelle jumped out of the car and wrapped the sable-haired woman in a tight hug then took her bags and threw them into the trunk when Sarina hit the button to pop it open.

“Haven’t you got to get up early in the morning?” Amara asked as she slid into the backseat and patted Sarina’s shoulder.

“Eh. . . I don’t think Sam will mind me going in a little bit late.”

“She might if she realizes the reason you’ll have been late for work is because you were picking me up from the airport in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, well. . .” Sarina shrugged and pulled away from the curb as soon as her twin climbed into the car and put her seatbelt on. “I might call in.”

“Why?”

 “You look like you could use a drink or two.”

“No. I need my bed. I’m exhausted. I’m not used to flying to London and back in two days.”

She pretended she didn’t see the proud yet confused look the twins shared at her not wanting to drink excessively before going to bed and shifted to rest her head against the cold glass of the window.

The next thing she knew Sarina was shaking her awake and dragging her out of the car, still half-asleep. Amara stumbled over her own feet and fought to right herself before she face-planted on the concrete sidewalk. She wound up catching herself on the light pole just as Sarina wrapped her hand around her arm with a chuckle.

“How you haven’t managed to cause yourself permanent damage by now is beyond me.”

“Ha ha.” Amara gave her a tired yet playful glare and once she was sure she wouldn’t fall on her face pushed herself away from the light and walked into her apartment building leaving Michelle and Sarina to carry her bags. She dug in her pocket for her key once she made it up to her floor and whimpered when she remembered that she had given it to the twins. All she wanted to do was go bed. Forget taking a shower and changing into her pajamas. There was a squishy mattress with a gazillion count Egyptian cotton sheets, a blanket made from her old baby clothes and t-shirts that her mother had quilted for her when she had been a teenager, and fluffy down pillows waiting on her.

She would talk to the twins about Tom later. She didn’t care about anything aside from crawling into her bed and falling asleep. She did just that when the twins unlocked her apartment door to let her in.

She woke God knows how long later and rolled over in her bed, half expecting to find another note on her pillow. One telling her to get her ass on a plane and go back to her husband. Again. She sighed with relief when she didn’t see one and looked to her clock to see that it was well after noon. She closed her eyes fully intending to go back to sleep when her cell vibrated on her nightstand. It was a text, one she planned on ignoring, and she growled when her phone vibrated again, falling off of the small table. Who the hell was texting her so damned early when they all knew she hadn’t gotten in ‘till late?

In the end it didn’t matter because she fell back to sleep before she could even talk herself into picking up her cell.

Tom tried to tell himself he wasn’t staring at his phone waiting for his wife’s reply. She should definitely be home by now and should probably be awake by now as well. It had been eighteen hours and twenty-two minutes since she had last texted him. Probably she was annoyed with him for his non-answer about how long was too long and was ignoring him. He only wanted to make sure that she was positive about being with him. That she hadn’t gone back because her family had pressured her to. He knew how insistent Michelle and Sarina could be.

He also wanted her to find herself. To figure out what she wanted in her life. What she wanted from him and herself. He knew that she had always planned every little detail and now her world had been turned upside down for lack of a better description. After the novelty of their relationship wore off she would be lost and he knew it. It would cause problems for them down the road and it was better to deal with it now rather than later. She probably hated him for it, but even so she would have to decide what she wanted.

Whether it was finding another job at a bookstore (because he knew she wouldn’t want to work anywhere else) or finally opening her own. She might even decide to go back to school and pursue her doctorate or take more art classes and become more involved with painting and sketching. He had seen the few sketches that she had done in her flat and they were amazing, but she seemed to avoid painting or sketching and rather focused on books instead. She could also play the guitar and sing and yet she still did nothing with her talent. He’d almost forgotten her dance lessons as well. Of course he didn’t see his darling wife belly dancing for a living. He smiled at that and shook his head. No, he definitely didn’t see her doing that. Not that she had to do anything for a living, but he knew she would want to because she refused to let people take care of her.

He glanced back to his mobile even though it hadn’t made a sound and pouted, he was definitely pouting, when he saw that she had yet to write back. She was ignoring him now. He was sure of it. Maybe it was for the best, he thought as he sat his phone aside. She couldn’t very well think with him trying to text or speak to her as much as he wanted to.

And wasn’t that a completely new direction for him? He hadn’t given her time to think at all before she had left. Mostly because he knew if she had time to think then she would run away. Then she had come back and he’d sent her away and wanted her to have time to think. He was near certain she would come back again. He only hoped he was right.

 


	31. Making Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry it's taken so long. I had a massive case of writer's block where this story is concerned. I think I've got it worked out now and there is two, maybe three chapters left after this one and maybe an epilogue. *sad face* Not sure about the epilogue yet. I will let you know. 
> 
> Also sorry for any grammatical errors and such. I've read over it a couple times, but I probably missed something.

Two days into Amara’s exile she decided to do something incredibly stupid.  Or probably to Tom incredibly brave. She was going to go to the beach. Before the incident that had driven her away it had always been a source of joy to her. It had been her comfort place. When she and the twins or she and her mother had gone it was always a place that she was able to relax and not be her usual control freak self. She was always on guard, always had been, but she was less when she was at the beach.

She didn’t know why she wanted to go to the beach she had avoided for nine years, but suddenly it seemed like a good idea. She was anonymous there, maybe. Or maybe it was a big fuck you to the life she’d left behind. Not Tom, she hadn’t left him for real this time, but the miserable existence she had been living before she had met him. Before she had found the love she’d never known she wanted or needed.

Amara took a steadying breath. Nothing bad was going to happen. There was no one that would hurt her, much less notice her. She would be fine. Perfectly fine. Well, as fine as she could be. She  climbed out of her mother’s car, having borrowed it to make the twenty minute drive, and marched to the seawall then jumped over the edge the way she and the twins had always done instead of walking down the steps. She stumbled, almost falling, then righted herself and looked around making sure no one had seen her almost fall on her face. She walked to the shoreline, hands in her pockets and turned her face up into the spray as she closed her eyes. God how she had missed this. She took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air, then sighed.

“What am I supposed to do?”

She had never felt so lost before. Well, not until Thomas. God how she loved him. She also hated him almost as much as she loved him. She hated him for breaking down her walls. She hated him for making her see what she could be if only she let herself love him and trust him. She was different with him, she knew. She was happy, even if she’d been terrified of him and herself the entire time. She had been happy with him and she’d been miserable with him. She’d found that there was more to herself than what she’d thought. She had found the one person that had been able to fix her and when she realized she wasn’t broken anymore she’d broken him in turn. He had healed so much of her that had been broken and she hated him for it. She loved him for it.

No longer was she the aloof, cold, distant girl she had been. Feelings rushed through her that she hadn’t felt in years. Things she’d never expected or wanted to feel again. And it was her darling husband’s fault. She wondered how long she would continue with her love hate feelings about him.

She turned and started walking down the beach, stopping every so often to pick up shells or the rare bit of sea glass or sand dollar. None of it helped her figure out what she was supposed to do. Once upon a time she had had plans. She planned on graduating high school, finishing college, getting a job. They hadn’t been the best plans but she’d done them. She was simple. She had never needed much. Her job at the bookstore and her apartment had been enough for her. Now she knew they wouldn’t be. But what was? She thought Tom would have been, but he was right and she knew that he wouldn’t always be enough. That she couldn’t only immerse herself in him and their relationship and marriage. But what could she do?

She sighed again and pushed her hands through her hair then sat on a dune and watched the sunset, listened to the small waves crashing on the shore, watched the stars light up the sky. The moon only a small sliver of light as she lay down on the sand to better see the stars.

It was only when she was getting ready to walk back to her mother’s car that an idea hit her. One of her ‘maybe one day’ plans. Maybe that day was now. She made her way home and walked straight into her room not even caring that she’d left a trail of sand all the way to her bed and opened her laptop to start typing a list of things she would need to do.

Several hours later and even more cups of coffee than she knew she needed she passed out mid-sentence. Her hands still on the keyboard.

Michelle turned to her twin with a grave look and Sarina nodded. Amarantha’s dumb ass had probably drank herself into a stupor and was currently sprawled out across her bed, covered in sand from head to toe. Her laptop lying haphazardly in the floor. They both knew that something had happened, something that was most likely Amara’s idiotic tendency to do stupid and emotionally painful things to herself when she was upset, that had convinced the twenty-eight year old to go to the beach.

“Wake her up?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Michelle grinned wickedly then left the room and walked to the kitchen while Sarina picked up Amara’s laptop. She came back moments later with a spaghetti pot full of ice water. Sarina nodded and helped her twin dump it on Amara.

Amara screamed, jumping from her bed, and glared at the twins when they stood there cackling like maniacs. “What the fuck was that?”

“Rise and shine.”

“Fuck you and your shine.” She grumbled it, putting a hand to her head, trying to stop the ache from spreading. She’d only had coffee, why the fucking headache? “Fuck. Fucking hell. What do you want?”

“Well it’s been two days. Your mom hadn’t heard from you so we came to check on you for her.”

“By throwing ice water on me? What? You think I was dead or something?”

“You kinda smell it.” Sarina told her with a grin. Michelle nodded in agreement.

“What do you want? Fuck.” Okay, that fuck was gratuitous, but she still meant it.

“Tom called us. Said he tried calling you, but you didn’t answer your phone.”

“Why? Why would he be calling me?” He was supposed to be giving her time. Not calling or texting to check up on her. Certainly he wasn’t supposed to send her roses with a note that said he hoped she went home soon. She wasn’t entirely sure that she would move in with him right away.

“Apparently he saw your little snit at the beach.”

“It wasn’t a snit and how?”

“Some kids there recognized you. Took some pictures of you out on the beach. There’s some commentary about you yelling at the sky and talking to yourself. Anyway, they showed up on tumblr and your hubby found them somehow. I’m pretty sure Luke got wind of them first.”

“Fuck.” Amara was pretty sure that Tom had gotten an email from the person that had posted the pictures of them in the park and it wasn’t Luke that had seen them first. How else would Tom have seen the pictures of her from the beach?

“As of the moment that Thomas threw me out of his house what I do is none of his concern. I wasn’t drinking anyway. I haven’t been sleeping well and I drank a shit ton of coffee last night. I was working.”

“Um . . . you quit the bookstore a while ago.”

“No. I’m planning my future. Making lists. Finding out how much it’s going to cost me. Monetarily, emotionally, physically, mentally.”

“Wait,” Sarina murmured having finally realized something that Amara had said. “What do you mean he threw you out? None of his concern?”

“Yuh. Fuckerhead threw me out the morning after I got there. Said I needed to take some time and think about things. As if the weeks I was away from him wasn’t enough time to do that. He left me a note on my pillow and everything. Why else do you think I came back the next freaking day?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. So I’m pissed at him, but not nearly as much as I think I should be. Anyways, I’ve sort of got a plan now.”

She ushered the twins out of her apartment after assuring them that she was perfectly fine, albeit missing her gorgeous jerk of a husband, and promised that she would have dinner with them and her mother soon. She just needed time to figure some things out.

Tom sighed as he stared at his mobile. It had been five days since he had heard anything from Amara. The last message he had gotten from her was that she was going to do what he wanted and take some time to figure things out. She had also called him a gorgeous jerk and told him she loved him. She had not replied to any of his messages since. Not even to acknowledge that she had received the dozen pink roses he had sent her. He knew she had gotten them though.

He sighed and fell back onto the couch, slouching against the cushions then reached over and picked up the Adipose that had haunted him since she had walked out on him. He knew she had left it on accident before and when he had asked her to leave after she came back she had left it on his pillow. Now he knew she fully intended on coming back after it. That didn’t keep him from carrying the thing around. He sat it on his stomach and picked up his mobile to look at the screen again. Still nothing. Not that he had honestly expected anything from her. Not for a few days yet. He hoped she would hurry with her decisions, but it couldn’t be that easy with her. Nothing ever was and probably never would be. He wouldn’t regret it.

The phone rang as he went to drop it on his stomach next to her Adipose and he pouted when he saw that it was his mother’s number on the screen then answered with a quiet sigh. “Hi, Mum.”

“Sweetheart, are you still moping?”

“I’m not moping.”

“You are. Thomas, why are you moping when you sent her away instead of trying to work things out?”

“We did work things out. For the most part. She needed time, Mother. So did I.”

“And now you wish you hadn’t sent her away.”

“It was for the best.” He hoped. “Is there something you wanted?” He hoped she would follow his change of subject and almost smiled when she sighed.

“I just wanted to check on you. I know you’ve been troubled.”

“Mum. . . I’m not troubled.”

“I’ve never seen you so troubled. Not until that woman came into your life.”

“That woman has a name and is my wife.” He didn’t snap at her but he wanted to. She was never going to let go how much Amara had hurt him when she had walked out on him.

“I know. I’m sorry, Tom. That was petty of me. Have you heard from Amara?” Tom pretended he didn’t hear the slight edge to her voice as she said Amara’s name.

“Em . . . yeah. The other day. She’s been busy.”

“So no.”

“I have. A few days ago. Can we not talk about my marriage right now?”

“We wouldn’t have to if you had annulled it when you had the chance.”

“Mother! Would you please not do this? I know you don’t agree with how it happened and you’re not overly fond of her even though you haven’t met her, but please don’t do this to me. I know you mean well and you’re worried that she’ll try to fleece me in a divorce, but she won’t. She does love me whether you think so or not. It’s my life anyway.”

“I just worry for you, darling.”

“I know, Mum. I have to get ready for work.”

They said their goodbyes and Tom dropped his phone on his stomach then scrubbed his hands over his face roughly. He hated that his mother was being overprotective of him right now. He knew she meant well, but honestly it was none of her business what he and Amara did. He still had not told her the entire story and probably never would. It would only make her dislike Amara even more. No matter if they stayed married or not and he didn’t want his mother to hate the woman he loved.

He was eternally grateful that she had not seen the pictures of Amara on the beach. He had been amazed, yet worried, that she had gone back to it after so long. Maybe she had actually taken what he said about not letting bad things ruin the good to heart. He knew that she was most likely there trying to sort herself and after reading the note he had gotten in the email full of pictures of her; he thought that she might need to take even more time than he thought she would. If the note had actually held even a speck of truth. He didn’t trust that it did. He could see his Amara ranting and raving about things, but not at the sky. He didn’t doubt that she would talk to herself though.

Had she been talking herself into something she wanted or out of something she wanted? He wouldn’t put either thing past her. He only wanted Amara to be able to figure things out so they could move on with their lives. If she ever came back, he thought with another pout. Granted he had told his wife to take all the time she needed, but even so he had hoped she would have been back already. If only he was that lucky.

When he had called Michelle to check on Amara after seeing the pictures she had told him that Amara hadn’t talked to her or her twin since the night they had picked her up from the airport. They promised to go check on her and had called after Amara had assured them that she was well and ‘sort of had a plan’. Sarina had chewed him out for throwing Amara out of his house, barely allowing him to explain what had really happened, and had then apologized for snapping at him and promised she and Michelle would let him know if Amara told them anything else.

He only wanted Amara to be able to figure things out so they could move on with their lives. If she ever came back, he thought with another pout. Granted he had told his wife to take all the time she needed, but even so he had hoped she would have been back already. If only he was that lucky. As much as he hated it, all he could do was wait. He had never been so impatient in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter may not be posted until a week or two after new years. My laptop is cratering as I type. Between my niece, my dog, and me accidentally dropping it then stepping on it as I walk, the screen has some wicked cool looking black streaks through it that are getting worse day by day so I'm having to ship it off to have it fixed after Christmas and I'm not quite sure how long it's going to take to get it back.


	32. New Beginnings Pt. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was going to have to wait until my laptop got back from being fixed, but then I remembered that I had emailed a copy of what I had of this chapter to myself and managed to borrow my niece's laptop long enough to finish it. Still don't know when I'll get my laptop back from my fix-it peoples though. *pouty face*

Amara hugged the glass case containing her favorite book in the world to herself, a bag with some of the other antique books from her grandfather swung from her elbow. This was the last time she would see the folio and the others. She had kept a few that she knew wouldn't bring her as much money as she would like them to. They were either damaged in some way or the covers were worn or there was writing on the pages. She couldn't bring herself to sell all of them anyway. The few that she had picked were more than enough for her to mourn the loss of.

She sighed heavily then walked into the bookstore where she would say goodbye and walk out with enough money to move and start her own store. Well, start her own store. She would move on what she had left in her savings account, after paying her rent and the termination fee on her lease, plus what she would get from selling her furniture, all of which she planned on getting rid of except the antique writing desk her mother had given her for her birthday. She couldn’t bear to part with it. Not after parting with everything else.

Amara sat down in a reading area after waving to the store owner and sighed again as she hugged the glass case to her. God, she prayed she was doing the right thing. As much as she hated to part with her grandfather’s book, it felt right to be starting over. To be somewhere new. Of course, London wasn’t exactly new to her, but it would be a new beginning and if that beginning happened to be in the city where she had abandoned then rejoined her husband and then left again, that’s where it would be. 

She sighed and blinked back tears hoping that her grandfather wasn’t rolling over in his grave about what she planned to do. She somewhat comforted herself by remembering that he had always wanted what was best for her and if parting with the folio was it then he would be all right with her selling it so she could have her new beginning. It would be what he wanted.

“Amara.” She looked up to see the owner had walked up to her and had been standing there for God knows how long before getting her attention. Amara sat the case and bag on the table then stood and shook Mark’s hand. “Mark, hi.”

“It’s great to see you again.”

“You too, thanks.” He motioned for her to sit and she sat on the edge of the chair. He perched on the edge of his own chair and leaned forward excitedly.

“Do you have the key?” Amara nodded reaching into her pocket then took the key off of her keychain and handed it to him. He spun the box on the table and she blinked back tears when he opened the glass. The smell of the old book filled her nose and she almost sobbed. The last time it had been out of its case was when Tom had read to her in her apartment. His voice filled her head and she swallowed thickly as she tried to hold back her tears.

Mark pulled out a pair of white cotton gloves then lifted the folio from the case and sat it on the table gently. Amara watched, trying not to cry as he leafed through the pages.

“This is amazing. It’s practically perfect. The edges on some of the pages are a little worn, that's to be expected, but I’ve never seen a folio in this condition. It’s exceptional.”

Amara gave him weak smile. She loved books as well as the next person but she could swear he was fixing to get wood over the book. She bit back a giggle at the absurd thought. “It’s been in that case for eighty years. It’s only been taken out a handful of times. A couple months ago, most recently. Until now, I should say.”

Mark nodded. “I want this for myself. This is too amazing to have in the store. I’ll display it here, but I won’t sell it. You can come visit.”

Amara chuckled quietly to be polite. “Maybe. I’ll be moving to London in the next few weeks. I probably won’t be back very often.” Mark nodded then carefully lay the folio back in its case and pulled the bag toward himself to start digging through it. Each book had him smiling more and more and tore Amara's heart to shreds. She had to do this though. Selling the books was the key to her new beginning. Sacrifices had to be made. No one needed to tell her that.

Three weeks later Amara was putting the finishing touches on her move. She had sold everything she could and given the twins the rest. She had gone to London and stayed in a hotel for a few days while she looked for an apartment. She probably could have asked her husband if she could stay with him while she looked, but that would have brought on having to explain that she didn’t want to move in with him right away, no matter how much she loved him. She also wanted to be on her own two feet before seeing him again. Before speaking to him again. She had texted him when he had sent texts first, but she had yet to initiate any form of communication with him. She knew he would understand. The most she had told him about her plans was that she had them and they were moving along well.

The apartment she had found was built over the top of what used to be a coffee shop. The shop was empty and Amara had decided it was fate that she find a shop and apartment in one go. Actually at first she had thought it was too convenient and had almost walked away from it, but something in the back of her mind, a tiny voice that sounded suspiciously like Tom, had told her to take it.

Only after she had called about the small building and gone to look it over with the owners did she realize how perfect it was. It had large windows where she planned on building wide seats so you could sit in the window to read and drink your coffee if you wanted. The walls were painted a cream color that she didn’t particularly like, but it matched the floor. The floor was made of ceramic tiles that looked like white and cream gold-veined marble. She thought about putting a carpet runner from the door to the counter where the register would sit then decided against it because she thought it might detract from the simple beauty of the place.

There was enough room for a couple small tables besides the seats she wanted at the windows and then room to line the walls with bookshelves and have a few free standing shelves. It wasn’t very large, but she would play furniture Tetris until she got everything just right. It would be . . . quaint, she thought her mother would have called it. Something along those lines. There was a small storage room in the back where she could keep inventory where she might have to play Tetris again to get everything organized.

There were two ways to get to the apartment upstairs. One was through the storage room and the other from outside the shop. The owner walked her through the storage room to a narrow set of stairs that led up to the apartment. There was a small living room with only room for a couch, a coffee table and maybe a bookshelf. The kitchen was even smaller, but had plenty of room for only one person. She doubted she would ever have company. It had two small bedrooms, one of which she would use for an upstairs office or storage overflow. The other room would be her bedroom and was large enough for a hopefully full sized bed and a nightstand. It had a closet that was half the size of the room so there was that at least. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do and that was all she needed. Thankfully she had managed to talk the owners into doing a rent to own on the building until she could get things properly situated.

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

Amara looked up from the suitcase she’d been shoving her clothes into and saw Sarina, Michelle, and her mother all watching worriedly. He mother had been the one to speak. “I’m sure, Mom.” Mary nodded; looking like she was fixing to cry and Amara zipped her suitcase then moved to her mother and wrapped her arms around her tightly. “I need to do this.”

“It’s so far away.”

“It’s only a few hours by plane. You can visit during Christmas break.”

“I’m worried for you, baby.”

“Ma, I’ll be fine.” Amara didn’t even notice the slip back into what she had called her mother when she was a kid. “I’ve always wanted to run a bookstore of my own and I’m finally getting to do that.”

“But in London? You’ve sacrificed so much. Everything you own. Your grandfather’s books.” Mary was openly crying now and Amara pushed her back so she could see her face.

“I know. I also know that grandpa wouldn’t be as upset with me as you seem to think he would be. He’d understand. Besides, I didn’t sell them all.”

“The folio.”

“I know.” Amara held back tears at the mention of her favorite book that held some of her favorite memories. She would cry later. If her mother saw her crying now she’d never let Amara leave. “Mom, it’s going to be all right. The worst thing that can possibly happen is that I’ll fail. If that happens then I’ll try again. Try something else. I’ll be okay.”

“What about Tom?”

Amara sighed and shrugged her shoulders. She hadn’t a clue yet. She needed to call him and tell him what was going on. That she would be in London the next day and she wanted to see him. To speak to him. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and never let him go again. Except he wasn’t in London right now, was away working somewhere according to the twins, and her store wasn’t open yet. She wanted to get everything situated first. “I dunno. You’re going to be late for work.”

“I’ll call in.”

“You can’t. You don’t have time and you’ve never had a sick day in your life. Sarina and Michelle will take me to the airport and I’ll call you when I get there.” Mary nodded then gave her a tight hug. “I can’t breathe, Ma.”

“I’m sorry. I’m going. You call me as soon as you land. And when you get to your apartment. And before bed.”

“I’m almost thirty.”

“You’re not even twenty-nine yet and I don’t care how old you think you are. You call me.”

“I will. I love you. Now go.” Amara grabbed her mother’s shoulders then turned her around and walked her out of the bedroom and to the front door. “Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me that you won’t let the girls try to call him. Okay? Please? They listen to you for some reason and I don’t want him to know I’ll be there. Not yet. I want to get on my feet first. I need to get on my feet first. For the both of us.”

“Okay. I wish you would at least talk to him.”

Amara opened the door to her apartment and practically shoved her mother through it. “I’ll be fine. Go on.” Mary nodded then rushed down the hall.

“Your mama is going to call you in five minutes to ask you again if you’re doing the right thing.” Sarina told her as she closed the door.

“I know. I’ll tell her yes. It feels right.”

“Are you sure you’re not moving to London because of Tom?”

“Yeah. It felt like home.”

“Did it feel like home because of him?”

“No. Maybe. The first time. And the second time for all of ten minutes before he tossed me out on my ass. But when I went back to look for an apartment it felt like home. Probably it is because of him, but I . . . I love him. Okay? And if that means moving countries and doing all this mess he wants me to do then I’m gonna do it. It’s for me too. I get what he was trying to do. We rushed into things headfirst and didn’t think about any of the long term stuff. This is us or me at least, working on the long term. He deserves that much.”

Tom grinned down at his phone when he saw the text from Michelle. His darling wife was on a flight to London. He almost pouted when Michelle sent another right after saying that she didn’t know where Amara was going. He hoped it was his house then realized she didn’t have a key and no way to contact anyone that would have one. Not that the two people that had a key to his house would give her one. His mother and Luke were poor choices for Amara to turn to even if she did have a way to contact either one of them. So where would she be staying? He couldn’t let her know that he knew she would be in London soon. If he did she would know that Michelle and Sarina had been feeding him information since she had left.

Not a lot mind you, but enough that he wasn’t completely in the dark where his wife was concerned. If he sent her a text or tried to call her now she wouldn’t answer him. She was shit at hiding things from him if she was talking to him, even in texts, and they both knew she would give something away. He decided to send her a text anyway, just one asking how she was doing, and he laughed when she only sent a bored looking emoticon followed by a heart in reply. The heart was her standard ‘I love you, talk to you later’ thing that she did when she didn’t want to talk. She was probably fixing to shut her phone off.

A month later after hearing nothing from his wife, not even a reply to his texts or calls, he gave in and called the twins. He had decided to quit bugging them when Sarina had accused him of stalking his Amara. How could he be stalking her when he had no clue as to where she was? He was certain she was in London. Somewhere. He just had no clue as to where she would be. And why? Why would she be in London and still not contacted him or come to see him? Yes, he’d been gone for a couple weeks, but he was back now and wondered why the hell she was still avoiding him. Was she still trying to find herself?

“Hey, Tom. We haven’t heard from her.” Sarina didn’t even give him the chance to say hi.

“Oh.”

“Neither has her mother. At least that’s what we’ve been told.”

“Oh. But . . . she might still be in London?”

“So far as we know she’s still there. I mean the store and her apartment.”

“What store? What flat? What are you not telling me?”

“Oops.”

“Sarina?”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone and Tom bit his bottom lip when Sarina said she would call him back in a few minutes then hung up on him. Ten minutes later she called back with Michelle on the line with her and they proceeded to confess everything they knew.

Apparently Amara had gone to London in order to find a flat and a place to start her own bookstore. She’d found it in less than a week, having stayed at a hotel instead of with him, and had gone back to the states to get her move organized. When he asked how she had been able to afford the move and startup the twins told him that Amara had sold the folio and everything else aside from the antique writing desk and a few of her grandfather’s books. She had also emptied her savings account to help fund her new venture. It had been a month since her final move and they had only had a few short phone calls from her since. Each one of them ending with her begging them not to call him, she would do it on her own when she was ready. When she got on her feet so she would be able to show him that she had found out who she was and what she wanted.

It broke his heart.

“I never wanted her to do any of that. To sell everything. The folio?” He blinked back tears and shook his head. “I would have helped her. I would have done anything to keep her from selling it.”

“She didn’t want you to. She wanted to do it on her own, Tom.”

“But the folio.”

“We know,” Michelle murmured. “She told us what it meant to you. About reading it to her. She didn’t sell it lightly. She figured out what she wanted and she went for it. She said it was what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want this! I didn’t want her to throw away everything she had!”

“She did it for you,” Sarina snapped. “She loves you and she knew you wanted her to figure things out. So she did. The folio was no small sacrifice, but the rest of it was. You know as well as we do that she wasn’t happy here. She had never been happy here and after you came into her life she was less so. We’ve never seen her so miserable and then she decided to do what she’s always wanted.”

“A bookstore.”

“She did that for herself, Tom.” Michelle murmured. “Moving to London to be with you? That was for the both of you. She knew you wouldn’t want to move and there was nothing holding her here. She loved what little of London she saw the first time she went and then when she went for the week to find a place to live she fell even more in love with it. She fell more in love with you because she could see London the way you did.”

“You’re the last piece, but she’s not ready for you just yet,” Sarina added quietly.

Tom sighed as he ran a hand through his hair and blinked back more tears. “Who did she sell the folio to?”

“She sold it some dude named Mark at a place called Atlantis that sells antique books. It’s not in town, but I should think it would be easy to find. If she was telling the truth. I wouldn’t put it past her to lie about it because she would have been afraid we would tell you and you would do something sentimental like buy it back for her. She would have felt she owed you for it then.”

“Mental at least,” he murmured. He was going to do everything he fucking could to get the folio back for her. It meant too much to the both of them for him to just let it go. “I’ll call you back later.” Tom hung on up them and the twins looked to each other with raised brows.

“Is he gonna do what I think he’s gonna do?”

“Sounds like it. He did say it was something mental.” Michelle murmured then took a sip of her beer.

“Amara’s going to kill him.”

“Yep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments, etc are very much loved and appreciated.


	33. Copout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for taking so long to update. I've had my laptop back for weeks, but have had a serious case of writer's block. I finally figured out what it was and have since moved past it. Like yesterday. I wrote this chapter and part of the next in something close to four hours last night and will be finishing it soon. Hopefully.
> 
> I've read over this chapter a couple times and I _think_ that I got all of the spelling errors and such out of it.

Amara had opened the store with less fuss than she had initially thought it would take, though it still took a fair bit. She managed to find two employees that didn’t seem to have a clue as to who she was and that had frankly saved her mind. What little mind she had left after rushing through preparations and forcing paperwork through faster than usual. She thought she’d been on the phone more in the past two months than she had in her entire life. She’d gone a little crazy while going over everything and they had kept her sane. Especially when she relinquished some control to them, they’d had to remind her that was the point of having employees, and they had finished setting up the shop. Her control freak nature made it hard to rely on anyone else.

The store was doing well enough. It wasn’t busy, but it wasn’t slow either. Of course they had only been open for less than a month. The coffee counter did get the majority of customers, but Jenny and Mickey managed to get quite a few of the customers to buy a book or two that they didn’t want or need, but bought because they had been flirted with. Amara didn’t feel guilty about it in the least. She was staying afloat and while it was too early to be confident that she wouldn’t fail, she was pinning her entire future on this place. She would do anything she could to keep it open.

Well, anything aside from asking her husband for help with it. She absolutely refused to speak to him about it, to ask him for help should she need it. She would do it on her own or not at all. She had neither seen nor heard anything from or about her husband in weeks. She had forbidden Michelle and Sarina from speaking of him and refused to look him up online. He had finally stopped texting her after a week of her refusing to answer him or speak to him in anything more than a smiling, pouting, or bored emoticon and heart. Since then she had started texts and dialed his number and even at the point of near desperation typed his name in the search box of her browser, but she had always managed to talk herself out of it.

With things at the store winding down a little bit she’d been thinking about him more and more. Wondering what he was doing and where he was. She wasn’t ready for him yet. She wasn’t ready to deal with him or with the talks they would have to have. And by God were they going to talk. Just . . . not now. She was as on her feet as she was going to get at this point and all she had to do was call him and tell him she was ready. She couldn’t do it just yet.

He wanted her to wait, as if she hadn’t waited long enough. He wanted her to take time, as if she hadn’t already taken the time she needed to come to terms with herself. With him. Figure out who you are, what you want. Blah fucking blah. She knew he only wanted the best for her and she understood it completely. Honestly she did, but after the shock of him practically booting her out on her ass had worn off, she’d gotten a little bit miffed at him.

She had put her heart and ass on the line and gone back to him to beg his forgiveness and he had taken her back to his house where they’d had the best sex of her entire life, listened to her apologize, listened to her tell him the things she had kept hidden from him and then practically thrown her out the next morning. Only he hadn’t been there to do it. No he’d left a note. The note. Yes, it had been petty of him and she couldn’t say she didn’t deserve a note, but she had thought that he’d at least want her to hang around long enough to talk out there problems and see what happened next. But no, he’d left a note on her pillow and her heart on the ground at her feet.

She must have read the note a thousand times. So much so that she had it memorized word for word and could recite it at the drop of a hat. It didn’t help that she carried it around in her pocket and looked at the tear stained piece of stationary at least once a day. She smiled a little sadly at that then pulled the note from her pocket and sat down at her desk. Maybe it was time to let it go. Amara unfolded the crumpled paper and sighed as she read it one last time.

Her emotions fluctuated as she read it, sadness, anger at herself because she’d let him push her away with that stupid note. The same way she had tried to push him away with one. She’d never exactly been clear minded about it, but something hit her just now that had her crumbling the paper in her hand once again and throwing it toward the trash bin. “Son of a bitch.”

He fucking copped out. Whether it was because he had been frightened that he would lose her again or frightened that they wouldn’t be able to work things out she didn’t know, but he had totally copped out. Something she didn’t know if he even realized he had done. It wasn’t something he’d normally have done. She knew that much. As hard as he had fought for her before she’d run away, as many almost arguments they had gotten into before then, she knew he wasn’t a pushover. He fought for the things he wanted but when she had gone back he’d copped out and pushed her away to keep from getting hurt again. She blinked back tears at that thought. God, she’d broken him. Not completely, but she had broken something in him that she didn’t know if he even realized was broken.

“Well, shit.”

How the hell had she made her headstrong, overly optimistic, frustrating husband into a frightened child? Amara picked up her cell to send him a text then sat it back down and grabbed her notepad and ink pen instead and began to write. She mused about his note as she began to write and only got more and more pissed off as she did. At herself mostly. She had known it would hurt him when she threw his heart back at him, but she hadn’t realized how much he had loved her. Hadn’t let herself believe it because she’d been frightened of being hurt. She’d broken something in him in the process of trying to protect herself, leaving him to write her the note and send her away. She had copped out again in her own way after that.

Yes the letter was worded so that it was a strong suggestion that she go home and figure things out, but she had chosen to leave him again instead of staying and fighting for what she wanted. It angered her that he’d done it and it angered her even more at herself for copping out by leaving. At the time she’d done it because that was what he wanted for her. Well, she’d done that now.

She still wasn’t ready to see him just yet. Not now. Not with the realization that she’d damaged him far more than what she had realized swirling through her mind and breaking her heart all over again.

 

Michelle heard a commotion at the front of the bookstore and frowned at her twin then walked toward the noise wondering what the hell was going on and then raised a brow when she saw Tom talking to a couple teenage girls that were giggling and blushing as they spoke. She almost laughed then waved to catch his eye. He smiled at her and waved and she ducked around the corner when the girls turned to see who he had waved at.

Michelle ran back to her twin and shook her head. “Tom’s here.”

“Really?”

“That’s the noise.”

“It’s following him.” Sarina nodded toward the noise and Michelle saw Tom walking to her and her twin. The girls were walking with him and he excused himself then rushed to meet his wife’s best friends.

“Hi.”

“Hey, Tom.” They spoke at the same time and he laughed. “What’s up?”

“I’m going home.”

“Did you give up?”

“No. I finally talked him out of the folio. I had to promise him a couple favors, but I did it. It’s back at the flat. I just wanted to come say thanks before I left. You didn’t have to put up with me being a mopey bastard, but you did.”

“You’re not a mopey bastard. I shouldn’t have said that,” Sarina murmured with a sheepish smile.

“It’s true. Or it was. I was moping.” He shrugged with a grin then gave her a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He turned her loose to hug Michelle and jumped with a quiet yelp when she pinched his ass. “Really?”

“Sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that for like a week.” She laughed when he rolled his eyes. “Do you think you’re going to be able to find her now?”

He shrugged with a sigh. “I don’t know.”

They had been trying to find her flat and the bookstore since he had come to the states and still hadn’t been able to find it. Nothing came up under her name and they wondered if she was going under an alias. Tom knew she hadn’t changed her last name to his and wouldn’t chance using his name anyway. His wife was paranoid about people enough to avoid that, but was she paranoid enough to use a completely different name all together?

She hadn’t wanted him to find her for sure. She didn’t want to see him or talk to him until she had gotten things settled. It had been more than two months. He’d thought she would have figured things out by now or at least let him know how she was doing. He had given up on texting her, mostly because he didn’t want her to realize what he was doing. He didn’t want to accidently slip and let her know that her best friends had admitted their parts in her plan giving him every little detail they could think of. Didn’t want to tell her he had been hunting down the folio and begging and pleading the man that she had sold it to sell it back to him. It had taken weeks of annoying the man but he’d finally given in.

He gave the twins one last hug then made his way back to their flat to finish packing his things so he could go back to London and try hunting her down from home. He hoped he would be able to find her soon. He knew that if he called her or sent her a text asking where she was she would likely ignore them. It would be a last resort. He was close to doing it already.

When he got home he sat the folio on the coffee table, laying the key to the glass case on top of it. He sat down with a heavy sigh and reached for the stack of mail that his mother or Luke had left on the table when they had come in to water his plants. On top of the stack was a letter with his Amara’s handwriting scrawled on it. It hadn’t been postmarked and had no return address so she had to have brought it herself. He bit his bottom lip wondering how long it had been since she had left it and why had she written a letter and snuck around to bring it to him when it was easier to pick up her mobile? He chuckled at that as he tore open the envelope. His darling wife had never done anything the easy way. Why would she start now?

_My darling husband,_

_Firstly I would like to tell you that I am well and you shouldn’t worry about me. We’ll be together soon._

_Secondly I would like to say that I love you. No matter how else it may seem._

_Thirdly, and this is where it starts to seem that I don’t love you, I would like to say that you, you gorgeous fucking jerk, are an ass. I don’t know if you even realized you did it, most likely not since I have only realized it just now, but you copped out._

_When I came back to you and you sent me away, you were copping out. I know I hurt you so very much and I regret it more than I can say, more than I will ever be able to show you, and I realize that most if not all of our issues are mine. Were mine._

_I realize now that you were frightened. Whether it was of losing me completely or of being heartbroken and losing yourself I don’t know._

_What I do know is that my slightly overbearing, completely irritating, overly optimistic, headstrong, amazing, loving, husband sent me away so he wouldn’t have to deal with things. Again I’m certain it was because you were afraid, but I have never seen you push things away in fear before. I can’t imagine that you’ve let yourself do it before. For that I apologize. It was my actions that inevitably led to yours._

_Now you’re probably sitting there wondering if you did copout or if I’m projecting because I copped out. Well, you did. So did I. I did it when I left the first time and I did it again by leaving when you left your note telling me to go home. I should have stayed and fought with you. For you. I took the easy road out as I usually do and by doing that I allowed both of us to avoid things that we should have dove headfirst into._

_Good things have come from my leaving, I won’t lie about that, but had I stayed I can’t imagine what we’d have gone through. What we might still be going through. It’s a double edged sword and we’re both balanced precariously on the blade._

_I’m getting too philosophical, I can feel my brain cells scrambling for cover, and you’re probably pissed off and fixing to call me to yell at me._

_I’ll be waiting for you. Don’t make me wait too long._

Tom dialed her number with one hand and wadded the letter into a ball with the other. What the hell had she meant he had copped out? Of course he hadn’t. His darling wife answered after the third ring and he heard what sounded like a crowd of people in the background. A phone rang and he raised a brow as he caught the name of the place as it was answered. Was it her bookstore? Pen and Feather? It had to have been. Of course she would name a bookstore after writing implements.

“Tommy?”

“Amarantha.” He couldn’t help the quiet growl in his voice and she laughed.

“Oh, good. You got my letter.” She sounded overjoyed at that and he frowned.

“What the hell is this? I did not copout.”

“You’re talking to the queen of copouts, alright? I know it when I see it. Granted it took me longer than it should have to realize it. I’m sorry for that. It’s still true though. Were you scared?”

“Of course I was scared. I’m still scared, but that doesn’t mean that I . . .”

“Yes it does,” she murmured, interrupting him. “It’s not a big deal honestly. I was pissed off when I wrote the letter and when I left it at your house. By the time I cooled down and went after it someone had taken it. I hoped it was someone you trusted. Why are you still scared?”

“I haven’t seen you in months. I’ve barely heard from you. I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing. The twins don’t even know or if they do they aren’t telling me. I worry for you. For both of us.”

“I’m fine, baby. I promise. I’m getting my life together like you wanted me to.”

“I want to see you.”

“You’ll see me soon.”

“Where are you, Amara?”

“Around. You know that by the letter. I’m sure you noted the lack of return address and proper postage.” He could hear the smugness and amusement in her voice and groaned.

“Amarantha.”

“Don’t be snippy. You know you love me.”

“Of course I do. Which is why I want to see you.”

“Soon. I gotta go back to work. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m not sure why at this point, but I do.”

“It’s because I drive you crazy. Jerk.”

Amara hung up on him and he had the feeling that she was cackling with glee for having wound him up like that and then immediately shutting him down. He sighed then opened the browser on his phone and looked up the name he had heard over the phone. Sure enough it was a bookstore, newly opened and had a coffee counter. Her two favorite things. He wouldn’t go today, he was too exhausted, but first thing in the morning he was going to hunt her down and they were going to talk. They’d avoided it long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments, kudos, etc. brighten my day and are loved and very much appreciated.


	34. New Beginnings Pt. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of the end. The second to last chapter, if the epilogue counts as a chapter. I finished this one the day after the last chapter but waited to post it. I've barely touched the epilogue except for some notes on it for the beginning and having actually written the ending of it. I'll finish it and post it tomorrow or later today if I get the chance.
> 
> This one's a bit long, a little bit over 6,600 words, but I needed to get everything in it.
> 
> Also I'm certain there are some grammatical and spelling errors and such. I tried to find them all, but probably missed some.

Amara grinned as she tucked her cell back into the pocket of her jeans then slipped into the leather jacket she had stolen from Tom. The one he had been wearing on their disaster of a first date when they had gotten rained on in the park and she’d had a panic attack because she realized she was falling in love with him. She wondered if he even realized it was missing yet. Probably not or he’d have said something. Of course he probably didn’t know she’d technically broken into his house while he was gone either. Yeah she’d left the note outside on the porch tucked under the edge of a flower pot that hadn’t been there before and was filled with what she thought were pansies but she hadn’t been able to resist going inside once she was sure he was gone. Mostly she thought because the pansies spoke to her, reminding her of what she was being instead of talking to her husband face to face. So why not do something crazy like a little B&E?

She’d picked the lock, a hidden and rarely used talent that she and twins had taught themselves to get into Michelle and Sarina’s dad’s liquor cabinet, and punched in the security code as soon as she got the door open so the alarm wouldn’t go off. Once inside she had looked around to see that very little had changed since she walked out the door all those months ago. One thing that had stood out was a framed picture of them in the park that was on the mantle above the fire place next to a copy of their wedding photo. She would have been lying if she said she didn’t think it was sweet.

Tom would probably have a heart attack if he knew she raided his closet for the jacket once she had made her way upstairs. She didn’t take the time to notice that he had moved the nightstand from her room to his or that her things were still in her bedroom. She hadn’t wanted to stay long just in case he came home and had only stolen the jacket because the absurd idea had popped into her head when she saw the picture on the mantle. It reminded her of what Tom had said after she had taken the rain soaked leather off and handed it back to him. Shouldn’t she be keeping his jacket? Amara had slipped into the leather jacket then left the house making sure she set the alarm and locked the doors on her way out.

“What are you smiling about?”

Amara jumped then chuckled quietly and shook her head. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“People don’t smile like that unless they’re thinking about someone. The mysterious husband I suppose?” Jenny tapped the rings on Amara’s hand as she spoke.

“Yep.”

“When do I get to meet him?”

Amara shrugged at that then picked up a box of books she’d been neglecting to carry up to her apartment. “Dunno. Whenever he gets time off work I guess.” _Whenever I call him and tell him I’m ready to see him. Unless he finds me first._

As soon as the thought hit her she cringed. What if he had heard the name of the store when Jenny had answered the phone? Was he on his way now? Oh shit. She wasn’t ready for that. There was no possible way she was ready to see him now. She was going to hide in her office or her apartment from here on out and let everyone else take care of the store. Obviously he was home now or he wouldn’t have gotten the letter she’d written him. Which meant he was only half an hour away. If he wanted to he could be there before she got done unpacking the books and going over inventory. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to see him on her own terms. Maybe she would be lucky and whoever had found the letter had mailed it to him wherever he was and he wasn’t actually home. As if she would ever be that lucky.

She did miss him though; she could admit that much at least. She carried the box of books through the storeroom and up the stairs to her apartment and pouted as she leaned against the door. She missed his smile and his laugh and those gorgeous strawberry blonde curls he sometimes hated and almost always tried to keep combed out. Missed his blue eyes glittering with excitement and delight when he did something that so obviously irritated her. She half thought he irritated her on purpose. Okay, more than half thought. She was pretty certain he did it on purpose. The same way she irritated him on purpose. She still missed him though. Even if she was paranoid about him walking through the door and seeing her working behind the counter or putting books on the shelves or doing inventory or any of the other multitude of things she did during the day.

Amara spent the next day hiding in her downstairs office and watching the monitors for the few security cameras she had been paranoid enough to put in and was glad she did. Not an hour after opening her husband walked through the door. Jenny was working behind the counter, going over some paperwork, and had already counted the till to make sure there was the right amount of cash in it to start out with so she didn’t see Tom right away. Didn’t seem to notice he’d even walked into the store until he was right in front of her.

Amara watched her employee jump as if startled and then sit her paperwork aside as Tom began to speak. Did he know she was there? Jenny shook her head to whatever he had asked then motioned toward the door to Amara’s office.

“No, damn it, Jenny!” Amara hissed it quietly then pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of the stolen leather jacket she hadn’t bothered to take off yet because it was always chilly in her office and called the store phone. Jenny answered after the second ring. “Jen, I’m not here. I don’t care who is looking for me or what they want. Don’t let him know anything’s up.”

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid Ms. Donovan isn’t in today. May I take a message?” Jenny sounded as perky as she always did over the phone and Amara sighed in relief when the other woman picked up a pen and started scribbling a made up note on the notepad kept next to the register. Maybe she could pull it off.

“Send him away.”

“Uh huh.”

“I mean it. Get rid of him.”

“All right. I’ll let her know. Have a nice day.” She hung up on Amara and spoke to Tom once again.

Amara could see that he was disappointed that she wasn’t there, but couldn’t bring herself to go out to meet him or have Jen bring him to her office. Not yet. She was too frightened of what would happen. She didn’t have any illusions about him walking into her office and sweeping her off of her feet and into his arms. She didn’t see him kissing her with every pent up emotion he had felt in the months they had been apart. She wasn’t sure what would happen, but the two of them running off into the sunset together wasn’t it. No, knowing her husband it would be something sweet and oh so sappy. Gentle summer rain and birds singing. Roses and tulips and lilies and forget-me-nots. Fish and chips in the park or rides on a giant and terrifying Ferris wheel with cars made of glass while they drank champagne and ate chocolates.

Tom sighed heavily and thanked Jenny then shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to look around the store. Of course his Amara wouldn’t be there. Not when he wanted her to be. Needed her to be. Or maybe she was and was hiding from him. That seemed more likely. He didn’t think that her somewhat controlling nature would allow her to leave something she obviously loved and took great pride in to other people.

The bookstore was so obviously hers. He could see her flare for dramatics in the layout of the bookshelves. In the windows where she had put pedestals in varying heights and draped them in midnight blue silk velvet then sat books on them with their covers half open so they would stand. Glittering crystals were scattered across the fabric making it look like a starlit sky. Underneath one window was a wide bench seat that was covered in cream colored button tufted leather that matched the walls and tiled floor. The walls and floor must have already been done in those colors; he didn’t see his Amara doing that color scheme on purpose.

He sighed again then turned to leave. He hated to admit that he’d driven past the store while it had been worked on. While his darling wife was filling its shelf after shelf of books. Even in the relatively small space she had managed to pack it with more books than she should have been able to. It didn’t look cluttered though. She had somehow managed to make the space look larger than it actually was even with the addition of a few small tables where you could sit and read while drinking some coffee or tea.

Tom shook his head then walked out of the store and made his way back to his car. He would come back every day if he had to. He was going to find her and talk to her. Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Jenny watched him leave and once she was certain he was gone ran into Amara’s office, closing and locking the door behind her. “What the hell was that? Gorgeous dude, totally in love with you by the way, walks in asking for you and you make me send him away? He looked like a kicked puppy when I told him you weren’t here. How evil are you?”

“On a scale from one to ten?” Amara grinned as she asked it, spinning her wedding set on her finger.

“I’m serious, Marie. What the hell? And why the hell would Tom freaking Hiddleston be asking for you anyway?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I have no fucking clue?”

“Nope.”

“Didn’t think so. It’s a long, extremely involved story.” Jenny’s eyes flicked down to Amara’s hand, watching as her boss spun the rings on her finger.

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.”

“Don’t.” Amara glared at Jenny. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“He’s the mysterious husband you never talk about. You’re her. Holy shit.”

“Not a word to anyone else, Jen.”

“No. I won’t. I like my job. You’re surprisingly easy to work for. When you let me actually work instead of trying to do it all yourself.” Jenny gave her a pointed look at that and Amara sighed.

“Look, if he comes back keep telling him I’m not here. No matter what he says, no matter how he tries to bribe you and he will because he’s devious like that, I’m not here.”

“Wanna tell me why I’m going to be telling that gorgeous man that his wife is not here even when she’s sitting feet from him?”

“Nope.” Her life wasn’t a soap opera no matter how badly it seemed like one. Especially right now.

“All right. You’re not here. Got it.” Jen gave her a grim smile then walked out of her office leaving her alone with her thoughts.

It wasn’t anyone’s business why she was avoiding Tom. She wasn’t even sure she really knew why at this point except that she was scared shitless to face him after all this time.

Tom kept true to his word and managed to go to Pen and Feather every day to see if his irritating beloved wife was there. After the second day he was certain she was avoiding him completely. He knew she wasn’t one to let other people do things for her when she could be doing them herself so he was positive she was hiding somewhere in the store. Either in her office or upstairs in the flat that was built over the top of the store. He went home as dejected on the second day as he had been on the first.

He had sent Amara text messages and even called her a few times but she had ignored him. Was she scared of talking to him now that he knew where her store was? What would she think if she knew that Michelle and Sarina had told him almost from the beginning that she was in London and had been for months? Or did she know and that was the reason for her avoidance of him?

The third day the woman at the register, Jenny he thought, seemed content to let him wander aimlessly around the store. He bought a cup of coffee because he felt guilty for just loitering around and had raised an eyebrow when Mickey handed him his cup with just enough cream to barely change the color and only enough sugar to lightly sweeten the drink. There was only one way the man could have known how Tom liked his coffee. Amara had told him. Did Amara not notice that she’d hired people whose names were those of characters from Doctor Who? Probably she had done it on purpose. She was geeky enough to do it even if she would never admit to it.

The fourth day Tom had been hanging around he was handed a cup of coffee as soon as he walked in and Mickey had refused to let him pay for it telling him that he might as well get something for hanging around so much even if he always left disappointed because Amara refused to speak to or see him. Tom wondered how much the two employees knew about his and Amara’s relationship. Not a lot, if anything at all, but they had to at least be curious as to why there was a strange man hanging around the bookstore a couple hours a day.

The fifth day he thought that Amara was finally going to put him out of his misery when he heard a door open in the storeroom and rushed to it in time to see a raven haired girl fall out of the stairwell and land in a heap on the floor. He rushed to her to help her up and winced when he saw that she had skinned both elbows on the concrete floor and was bleeding. She had mumbled that she was fine and it happened all the time, her accent heavily Irish, as she looked down at her feet. He had almost thought she was Amara in hiding, but didn’t think she would come up with something so incredibly silly to avoid him. Then again she probably thought he wouldn’t have believed she’d have done it. He watched the girl reading from a list of books and grab them from the shelves then run back up the stairs to the flat above, tripping again on her way up them. He almost followed her to see if his Amara was hiding away up there.

Little did he know Amara was upstairs having a panic attack on the floor surrounded by the pile of books she had gotten out of the storeroom.

 “Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck.” She pulled her cell out, starting to call Michelle and Sarina then shook her head. No. If they found out Tom was here she would never hear the end of them trying to get her to talk to him. Or they would call Tom and tell him that his pain in the ass wife was only feet from him as if he didn’t know already what with the way he was hanging around the store like a stalker.

Amara just needed to pick up the books, box them up and drink a cup of tea. She groaned quietly at that, wondering when the hell it had become her first thought to have a cup of tea to calm down instead of coffee or beer or some other kind of liquor. Probably it had started the minute she had hired Jenny on and the woman had made her a cup of tea because she was running around like mad and refused to sit and let Jenny do what she’d been hired to do. The only thing Amara needed now was to stock up on those chocolate covered not-called-cookies-here things that Tom almost always had with his tea.

She dragged herself out of the floor and picked up the books, making sure none of the pages were bent, then sat them on the tiny coffee table she had managed to find for her apartment. It was a wonder Tom hadn’t realized it was her he was helping from the floor. Dying her hair black when first coming to London was just something she’d done in hopes that no one that was a fan of Tom’s would recognize her. The electric blue contacts were the same. The heavy Irish accent she’d learned from her father before he’d disappeared from her life she had used when talking to Tom after he’d pulled her from the floor was just to hopefully con him into not realizing it was her. She’d also spoke as little as possible and hadn’t shown him her face. Yeah she was being paranoid and just a bit crazy, but she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him face to face just yet.

She needed to get back to work instead of pacing her tiny living room like a madman. She didn’t need to focus on the fact that the husband she had abandoned twice was just a short flight of steps away. Well, the second abandonment hadn’t exactly been her fault. He had practically thrown her out. Though she was only supposed to stay gone long enough to figure out what she wanted. She was still in the process of doing that. Wasn’t she? Or was she just delaying the inevitable at this point?

She sighed then walked into her office/storeroom overflow and sat at the small desk and opened her laptop to check her email. She had one from her mother and after checking the time decided to call instead of emailing her back. She hoped Tom was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear her. Sound traveled in the old building and Amara could always hear when the front door opened or when someone ordered something from the coffee counter.

After a ten minute conversation that ended with her mother telling her how stupid she was, her mom’s words not hers, for not going back to her husband already Amara walked out of her office and fell face first on her bed then sent Jenny a text asking her if she could actually make Amara that cup of tea she wanted.

Tom sighed heavily as he held the folio case in his hands while slouched onto the sofa. He was moping again. Day after day he went to Pen and Feather only for Amara to hide from him and for him to be told by Jen and Mick that Amara wasn’t there even though they all knew she was. She was always in her office or upstairs in her flat hiding away from him. He felt like an idiot. He had asked Jenny about the Irish girl that worked in the back only to have his suspicions confirmed that there was no Irish girl.

One day he was going to walk in there and either march upstairs or to her office and make her talk to him. They couldn’t keep this game going any longer. They needed to sit down and talk and figure out what it was they both wanted. Obviously a divorce wasn’t it because neither of them had filed for one. He would have thought that the five months that they’d been married would be enough time for Amara to figure things out. It would be Christmas soon and he was determined to bring her home before then.

He reached for the key to the case and inserted it into the lock only to pull it out and toss it back on the table. He wouldn’t open the folio until Amara saw it. As far as he knew she hadn’t been told by the twins what he had done. He imagined a rather tense conversation with her if she knew. She would either talk to him through another snark filled letter or with an expletive filled phone call where she would then hang up on him without letting him explain things. He chuckled at that then sat the folio back on the table and sat her Adipose on top of it like a tiny plush gargoyle that would watch over it for him.

He would give it a couple more days of going to Pen and Feather looking for his sable haired wife. Or raven haired now since she’d dyed it. After that he was going to make her talk to him whether she wanted to or not. They’d spent too much time dancing around each other. For every step forward he tried to take she took two steps back.

Day six started out much the same as it always did. He walked into the bookstore, got his coffee then walked around looking to see if he had managed to catch his wife out of her hiding spot. He had learned where her security cameras were and divided his time between staying just out of frame and giving the cameras silly looks and pitiful faces hoping he would drive her crazy enough to come out and at least yell at him. So far it hadn’t worked, but he was nothing if not persistent.

Jenny had wandered over to him and slid a piece of paper onto his table with a gentle smile then wandered off again. On it was Amara’s name and a time. Did she leave the store a certain time every evening? It was definitely in the realm of possibility. Amara was used to schedules and didn’t do well if they were changed or interfered with in any way. He had not shown up at the same time each day in an effort to catch her, but now he at least had a time that he might see her.

Day seven he decided to change things up and appear at Pen and Feather at the time Jenny had given him. He took the folio with him on the off chance that Amara might be around for once. What he saw as he peered in through the window made his heart stop.

His Amara was standing at the register, completely oblivious to him as she counted the till and scribbled on a note pad. Her newly dyed raven black hair was pulled into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. She’d taken her contacts out at some point and he could see her dark chocolate eyes glittering from under lids that were dusted with smoky eye shadow. Her lips were painted a brilliant red that matched her blouse. She had bandages on both elbows and her fingernails were painted to match her lips. Jenny appeared from behind a bookshelf and Amara smiled and laughed at whatever the other woman said. Tom didn’t think his wife had ever looked more beautiful than when she smiled.

He watched her for a moment longer then turned to leave. He knew if she saw him that gorgeous smile would disappear only to be replaced with a look of shock and fear. He didn’t want to be the one to ruin that perfect smile.

Day eight had him wondering if he should even go to Pen and Feather. What would he do if she lost that smile because he walked in the door? What would Amara do if she saw him standing there with the folio in his hands? Would she be happy to see him and the book she had sold to make her new life? Would she throw everything back in his face the way she had before? Would she refuse his gift and him out of concern for the amount of money it had taken him to get it back for her?

In the end he had decided that the only way to find out was to go back to the bookstore. He spent most of the day pacing away nervous energy until the time he knew she would be counting the money in the till.

When he got to the bookstore Amara was back behind the counter. Her hair was long and loose around her shoulders. She wore very little makeup and a black leather jacket that looked extremely familiar over a fuchsia silk camisole with a pair of black jeans. When the hell had she stolen his jacket? Why had she stolen it? How had she stolen it? She didn’t have a key to the house so her only option would have been to break in. Did she know how to pick locks?

Amara was smiling to herself, that secret little smile that he knew meant she was thinking something devious, and he wondered what it was that she was planning. Nothing drastic he could tell, but still there was something there. Something that might not bode well for whoever she was thinking of.

Amara counted the money from the till and sighed as she wrote down how much was in it on her notepad. She missed her husband. She’d gotten used to his presence in the store even if she never did go out to speak to him. So when he hadn’t shown the day before she’d begun to worry. She knew he wasn’t working. She had finally given in and called the twins to find out what they knew. All they could or would tell her was that he was home and no one had seen much of him aside from his almost daily trips to the bookstore. What would have been daily trips if the store was open seven days a week. Jenny and Mickey needed time off and frankly so did she. Saturday evenings and Sundays were the only times the store was closed.

Amara wanted to hire someone else to handle some of the hours that Jen and Mick were working, but couldn’t afford it just yet so she picked up the slack when she needed to. Like now when Jenny had taken the day off because her daughter was ill and running a high fever. Jenny and Mickey alternated Saturdays and Jenny brought her daughter with her when she couldn’t find a sitter. Amara loved having the six year old in the store. She was a near perfect duplicate of her mother and loved to help clean. Amara gave her a little bit of money here and there for ‘working’ and it got put into a piggy bank when she got home.

Where the hell was Tom? He hadn’t shown up on what would have been day eight of his stalking and she was wondering if he’d finally given up on her. What would she do if he had? Would he send divorce papers? Would his family hunt her down for screwing him around for so long? Would Luke? Would her own mother show up and kick her ass? Would the twins?

Except the twins didn’t have to hunt her down now did they? Amara scowled at her note pad. No, the twins knew exactly where she was and had been told by Tom. Of course the traitorous bitches had also been telling Tom her every move since she’d sold everything she could and ran away to London. Time was all she had asked for but they had fallen for Tom’s kicked puppy attitude and had given in and told him that she was in London. Ruining her surprise for him when she finally got on her feet. There was no telling what else he and the twins and concocted between them. All three of them where devious little shits.

So intent on running her three favorite people’s names into the mud was she that she didn’t hear the door open or the quiet footsteps toward her. No, it wasn’t until a soft clearing of a throat that she noticed she wasn’t alone in the store. What she saw made her heart stop. Tom, her beautiful Tommy, was standing in front of her looking as scared shitless as she felt.

His strawberry blonde curls were mussed as if he’d been raking his hands through them. His ocean blue eyes glittered with nerves and concern. He was biting his bottom lip and clutching something wrapped in brown paper tightly to his chest. He was wearing the black cardigan that zipped up and a pair of tight blue jeans and the scuffed cowboy boots that looked both out of place and perfect for him. He was beautiful. Even if he looked terrified.

“Tommy.”

“Amara. You look good in leather.”

“Especially if it’s yours. What are you doing here, baby?”

“I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. I . . . what did you do, sweetheart?”

Amara shrugged biting her bottom lip. “I started my store. You know I’ve always wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you come home? Why didn’t you call or send me a message? Something? Anything but avoiding me for months? You could have at least let me know what you were doing. How you were doing.”

“I wanted to get on my feet first. I thought that’s what you wanted. I couldn’t have done that if we were . . . I do love you Thomas, but if I had immediately come back or started calling we’d have fallen back into our routine and I would only have wound up moving in with you and my whole life would have been centered on you instead of me trying to figure out what I wanted in life besides spending it with my husband.”

“Of course it was what I wanted for you darling and I’m happy that you have, but I don’t see why you couldn’t have at least given me updates or let me know that you’d moved here.”

“Well, the twins did that didn’t they? They told you every little thing they could. Everything I made them promise not to tell.” Amara growled and pushed her hands through her hair. Maybe they hadn’t told him about the folio, but they’d told him everything else. “I wanted to be able to call you and tell you that I had figured things out. That I had finally done the one thing I had always wanted to do. I wanted to be able to call you and tell you that I know who I am and what I want. I didn’t get to do that because of them.”

“Tell me now. Tell me all of it.” He hugged whatever was wrapped in brown paper closer to him and his wife sighed. “Are you on your feet, Amara?”

“Only just.” Her voice cracked and she slipped the money she had been counting into a zippered bag as an excuse to look away from him for a moment. She needed to get her bearings and couldn’t do that while staring into those depthless blue eyes. God, she didn’t want to cry. He would only sit whatever it was that he was holding down and wrap his arms around her and hold her until she finished crying. She took a shuddering breath then sighed as she let it out.

“You told me to take time to figure out who and what I am and what I wanted. This is me.” Amara waved her hand and the envelope she still held, encompassing herself and the building they were in. “I’m twenty-eight. I’m addicted to books and coffee and now I drink tea because Jenny makes it for me and makes me sit down and take a break when I need one. I draw the line at those chocolate things you like so much. I went back to my boring, miserable apartment and took a few days to think. I decided what I wanted to do and I did everything I could to make it happen.” She sighed again and gave him weak smile.

Tom knew she wouldn’t want to tell him about selling the folio. He gave her an encouraging smile. “Keep going.”

“I sold almost everything I owned. I emptied my bank and savings accounts. I found this place and now I own my own bookstore. I’m a slight workaholic. I’ve been so miserable without you and it’s easier to work than to deal with my misery or put an end to it by trying to talk to you. I’ve been married for five mostly miserable months to a man that I both love and want to strangle in equal measure. I’m heartbroken because of my own pride and stupidity. I’m sorry for the pain I caused because I let my fear win over everything else and broke my promises. I ran from you twice when I should have held you close and I’ve hidden for two months because I couldn’t bring myself to find you and tell you what I truly wanted.”

“And what do you want?”

“I want you. I want this store not to fail. I want the life I never thought I would get to have with the man I thought I could never love.” The tears she hadn’t wanted to cry began to fall and her gorgeous jerk of a husband sat the package aside and pulled her into his arms, lifting her dragging her over the counter. She laughed quietly as she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder.

“I love you too, darling.”

“You’re still a jerk.”

“I know, love. And you’re still an irritating brat.”

“You never called me a brat.”

“Did I not? I meant to.”

“Shut up.” She pinched his arm lightly and he chuckled then kissed her temple and turned her loose. “I hate crying. It makes me feel so weak.” She wiped her eyes, being careful not to smear her eyeliner.

“There is nothing weak about crying, my love. ‘There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love’.”

“Washington Irving. And you’re an ass.” He chuckled hugging her again and she wrapped her arms around him tightly. “I love you anyway.” She murmured against his ear.

“I love you too. Now, I have something for you.”

“You’re all I want, Tommy. I’ve got everything else.”

“You’ll want this, darling. Trust me.”

“I do. Trust you I mean. I think I always have. I was just scared.”

“I know, love.” He kissed her gently then reached past his overwhelmed wife and picked up the folio then stepped back from her and held it out. She took it from him with shaking hands, the oh so familiar weight of it bringing more tears to her eyes. She gave him a questioning look and he shrugged. “Open it, darling.”

“What did you do, Tommy?”

“Open it first then you can snipe at me.” He even took a step back as if afraid that she would hit him and she frowned then held the box in one hand and tore at the paper with the other. She nearly dropped the glass case containing the folio even though she’d been sure of what it was as soon as Tom had handed her the box.

“Oh, Tommy, what did you do?”

“I bought it back.”

“Baby, that was worth a fortune.”

“Which was mine to spend as I saw fit.”

“I can’t accept this.” She tried to hand it back to him and he shook his head backing away from her.

“Why not?”

“It cost too much.”

“Your grandfather meant for you to keep it. I want you to have it. I know what it means to you. It means something to me too. The first time you willingly let me hold you in my arms was when I was reading this book to you. Aside from our wedding night I should say.”

“Baby. I can’t let you do this.”

“It’s already done, my love.”

“I won’t take it from you.”

“Will you take me?” He looked terrified that she wouldn’t go back to him even though she had already told him he was who and what she wanted in her life. She knew she should have contacted him before, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Not until everything was going the way she wanted it to.

“You, I’ll take, but not this. I can’t.” She sat the case holding the book she never thought she’d see again on the glass counter next to the register then reached for her husband and grasped front of his cardigan, dragging him to her. She had just barely brushed her lips over his when he pulled back from her. She blinked in shock when he gently slapped her hands away from him then reached behind her to get the folio.

“Unfortunately the folio and I are a packaged deal so I’m afraid you can’t just take one of us.”

Amara glared at the wicked glint his eyes. “Oh, you gorgeous jerk. Blackmail again?”

“Again.” He grinned mischievously and tapped his fingers on the glass case that held the folio. He knew she was once again trying to keep from taking what she really wanted. He knew she was concerned over the money it had cost him for the book but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. “You know you want us.”

“I do.”

“So say yes. Will you take us on?”

Amara bit her bottom lip, looking between the two things she wanted most in the world. She could kill Tom for spending so much money to get the folio back even if she did want to clutch it to her and never let go again. Well, she wanted to do that to both of them really.

“Will you have us, Amara?”

She met his gaze and wondered how long it would be before he kissed her into submission like he had always done before. Too long was her guess, when he only stared into her eyes. She finally sighed and rested her hand over his on the glass case that held her second most loved thing in the world. Her first was currently giving her the most gorgeous smile she’d ever seen. One that she wanted to see every day for the rest of her life. However long or short it would be. Probably not very long if she didn’t give him her answer quickly enough to suit him. She smiled and nodded, tapping the wedding ring he still wore on his ring finger.

“I will.”

“Do you mean it?”

“I do. For better or worse.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanna say thank you so very freaking much for all the views, kudos, comments, subscriptions, etc. on this. I love every bit of it and you. I never expected this to do as well as it has. Even if it has taken almost a year to finish. Thanks for sticking around.
> 
> And a special thank you to my sister whom I bounce ideas off of. Thanks for keeping me in line and trying to keep me away from too much Sebby so I could focus on Tom and Amara. Love you.


	35. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is it. It's over. Again. For real this time.
> 
> I hope it's not too cheesy.
> 
> I moved the unused chapters and other pieces of this that I felt didn't fit or I had just changed too much of the story to use them any longer over to another Word file and there are 242 pages of text, 95k+ words, that I wrote for this and didn't use. So if anyone was wondering what took so long between some of the updates, that's why. lol
> 
> ＼(^▽^＠)ノ

Tom smiled down at his wife when she lay down on the couch and snuggled up against him. She smiled up at him then rested her head against his shoulder then sighed happily. He couldn’t believe it had already been a year since they had gotten back together. Since he had finally managed to get his darling wife to talk to him instead of hide away.

Tom had temporarily moved in with Amara over the bookstore the same night she had accepted him and the book back in her life. He had gone to his house, she had still maintained it was his house instead of their house as he had called it, and brought over several days’ worth of clothes. A move that she had only rolled her eyes at. He had moved in with her because he knew she wouldn’t move in with him right then.

When he wasn’t working or in meetings he spent his free time annoying his Amara into spending time with him on the breaks that Jenny had kept making her take. Some days they would eat lunch sitting at one of the tables surrounded by her books, others they would share a cup of tea before she ran off to answer the phones or work the register when Jenny had to help Mickey make coffee or tea orders.

It was a week before he reminded his wife that she needed to meet his mother. Amara had tried to make excuses and eventually Tom went to his mother’s house to pick her up and sprang her on Amara at work. Jenny and Mickey thought it was hysterically funny and only stopped laughing when Amara made a useless threat about firing them. They knew she wouldn’t do it, but relented and abandoned her to her fate.

Things were awkward between Amara and his mum to say the least. His mother had made some not so subtle jabs at Amara and Amara had bitten her tongue to keep from sniping back. She didn’t manage to bite her tongue when Tom told his mum that Amara would be moving in with him soon. Amara had excused herself and Tom to go make more tea when there was still more than enough on the coffee table. They got into a short, quiet argument in the kitchen that ended up with them making out heavily against the fridge while his mum sat in the living room pretending she didn’t hear them arguing. When it got quiet she wondered if they had killed each other already and had gone to see what had happened only to laugh and walk back into the living room when they had jumped away from each other with crimson blushes staining their cheeks when they realized she was there.

Things had been even more awkward after that but his wife had survived. If only to torture him after he had returned from taking his mother home. He had also reminded her that she would meet his father and sisters at some point too and that he had yet to meet her mother. Amara had promised they’d get to meet at Christmas and avoided the subject as long as she could manage; even going so far as to move in with him to keep him quiet on the subject.

They spent their first Christmas together surrounded by their families and even Sarina and Michelle had taken a week off of work to visit for a few days during the holidays. Mary had gotten along well with his mother which had been a relief for Amara who had still been certain that his mum hated her for what she’d done to him.

After Christmas Tom had gone to film a movie and Amara had wished she hadn’t given Jenny and her daughter the flat upstairs so she could stay there while he was gone so she wouldn’t feel so lonely. Tom had told her it was just as well because he knew she would throw herself into work the entire time he was gone if she hadn’t. Of course that didn’t keep his darling Amara from doing it anyway.

When he returned the next month Amara had asked him to marry her all over again. A real wedding with all of their family and friends present this time. To tie it up nice and sappy she’d said. When Tom had asked her if she meant neat she said that no, she meant sappy. He had laughed and they set about planning a wedding that had taken place on their one year anniversary. Amara’s idea again.

He’d like to say that there hadn’t been any problems between them since their second wedding. That they hadn’t fought or argued over anything, but it would be a lie. They had not fought over anything major, but even so it was enough for him to worry that they might be headed for a divorce anyway. Thankfully that hadn’t happened.  They were still together, still happy, and only a few short weeks away from their second Christmas together.

“Are you crying?”

“No. I am not. I’m watching the film.”

“Uh huh.”

Tom smiled at his darling wife, hoping that they would be this content for the rest of their lives, and she snugged closer to him with one arm around his waist and the other resting across her stomach. On the television Baloo was singing with Mowgli and Tom quietly began to sing along. Amara shook her head with a grin and he laughed then brushed his lips over her hair as he slid his hand to rest next to hers on her belly.

“You’re such a sap,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“So I’ve been told.” Her belly twitched under their hands and they grinned at each other then looked to their joined hands as if they could see what had caused the movement. They both laughed and he sighed happily as he turned his gaze back to the movie.

He had always wanted to share his favorite childhood movies with a family of his own. With his future children. He looked back to Amara when her belly twitched again and tears filled his eyes at the pride shining in her own. In a few short months he finally could. He could share every film that he had loved when he was growing up with his daughter and eventually her brothers or sisters.

He thought they would start with The Jungle Book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you again to everyone that read this and _hopefully_ enjoyed it. I love every comment, kudo, et cetera because they inspired me to write when I thought this was turning out badly and only wanted to abandon it.
> 
> Thank you again to my best friend/sistah because if you hadn't been begging me to stop lusting after Sebastian Stan and start lusting after Tom again or as I like to lovingly think ~~gently riding my ass about this because you love it so much~~ I may never have finished it. Love you!
> 
> Sorry for any spelling and grammatical errors.


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